


Curious Case of the Whiskey Fairy And Her Loyal Smurf

by LadyLanera



Series: Post-Hunting Universe [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Blow Jobs, Christmas fic, Depowered Gabriel (Supernatural), Destiel is in background, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Family Fluff, First Display of Wings, God!Jack, Human Gabriel (Supernatural), Hurt Gabriel (Supernatural), M rating is for two scenes but mostly T rated, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Angst, Nephilim, Night Terrors, accidental magic, first flights, smurfs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27922696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLanera/pseuds/LadyLanera
Summary: After helping Heaven with its flickering lights problem, Gabe returns to his family just in time for the Holidays. Constantly struggling choosing between Heaven and the bunker in Kansas, he quickly realizes he needs to end the never-ending struggle between both once and for all before it tears apart everything he's ever wanted. Whoever said raising a family was easy clearly never raised one.
Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Series: Post-Hunting Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965895
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	1. Halo

**Author's Note:**

> So, this fic exploded into this mostly fluffy family bunker holiday Sabriel fic. At the end, there is a gorgeous commission I had the amazingly talented Gabester do for me for this fic. Definitely check her stuff out [here](https://linktr.ee/gabestersketch) and the beautiful photo at the end of this fic as well. It's so awesome.
> 
> Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for reading. All my love.

Gabe was bored. No, actually, he was worse than that. Not that he had any idea what was worse than being bored exactly, but he was that. His fingers rhythmically tapped out the song “Old Town Road” as he half-listened to the newly-turned angel in front of them drone on about something Gabe honestly didn’t give a flying hippo’s ass about in the slightest.

Why was he here again? Seriously? It wasn’t like he was contributing anything up here. Other than taking up space that was and, well, supposedly recharging Heaven’s batteries by his mere presence.

“Thank you, Josial. We’ll take it under advisement,” Michael quietly stated for the trio as neither Jack nor Gabe replied after the lower-tiered angel finished their speech. “You may go.” As soon as the newer angel left, Michael’s head whipped to the side. “Would it have killed you to at least looked like you were semi-interested?”

“Probably,” Gabe remarked flippantly, resisting the urge to laugh when his brother’s wings flared out angrily. Oh, Mikey. He just was too damn easy sometimes.

“Do you believe it’d work?” Jack, however, asked curiously a beat later.

His question snapped both archangels back instantly.

“His suggestion,” Jack clarified. “Do you think it’d make things easier up here?”

“Perhaps,” admitted the brothers in unison, glancing at one another with matching frowns.

“However, it’d depend on numerous variables and—”

“Why?” asked Gabe, however, interrupting his older know-it-all brother and his variable speech.

“I don’t understand.”

“Why are you asking?” the former Trickster replied with a shrug. “I mean, sure, kid has some spunk with that can-do attitude and bringing the idea up to the bosses, but why make more? Is it so we make more soldiers who hang on our every word like mindless drones as Dad did?”

“Gabriel, that’s not—”

“Mikey, please,” he huffed. “That’s exactly why Dad created us. Let’s be honest here.” When his brother frowned deeply and pressed his lips firmly together, Gabe turned back to his nephew. “So, what’s these new angels’ purpose? To recharge Heaven? To lessen the strain on us? To do our bidding?”

“No.”

“Then why do we need them?”

“Because our race is going extinct, you fool,” Michael grunted beside him.

Oh, but of course his brother would use that line. “Well, considering I helped repopulate—”

“With a human nonetheless,” pointed out his eldest sibling with a pinched face of disgust.

“Yes, with a human— _oh, the horror_ ,” Gabe drawled, rolling his eyes hard. As if he didn’t know all about Midam and that sailing ship. “But I have two supercharged rugrats.” Whom he missed terribly.

“You have two _Nephilim_!”

Gabe merely pointed at Jack and smiled haughtily. _Game, set, match, dumbass._

His brother glared back before he turned away angrily. Mikey wouldn’t go against their nephew.

“And then there’s Cassie who has his. So, let’s see. It’s been awhile since I was able to watch the Count thanks to you, but I think I have this down. One Nephilim.” He motioned again to Jack, who tilted his head and squinted back, clearly not following their conversation in the slightest. Gabe then held up two fingers. “Two Nephilim—Cassie’s little chatterbox Alec.” Mikey glared harder, clenching his jaw to the point where his teeth grinding could be heard clearly. “Three Nephilim—my chip off the ol’ block Declan.” He then added another finger. “Four Nephilim—my beautiful Princess Madelyn.”

Michael looked positively feral. “Congratulations. You can count to four. How grand.”

“Are you suggesting we bring my cousins and brother up here?” Jack wondered aloud.

“No. Of course not.” Gabe shook his head. Sam and Dean would kill him if he were, and he really liked staying on their good side. “I’m merely saying things aren’t as dire for Heaven as believed.”

“Two archangels, a Nephilim, and a handful or so of angels are hardly—”

“But that’s the point!” he argued, glancing to his brother. “You’re still thinking from a soldier’s point of view. We survived, Mikey, thanks to the Winchesters and our nephew over there. Humans are the future, _our_ future. Face it. We’re just sad, ol’ relics now.” _As it should be._ “So, why do we need more of us? All the souls up here can figure it out. I mean, look who we have. Tons of creatives and innovators before their times. Let’s go to them. Ask them. Learn from _them_.”

His brother looked like he bit into a sour lemon at the idea. “You spend too much time with—”

“Hardly the point.” Gabe waved his hand dismissively, disregarding the instinct to argue how it was never enough. “But I mean it. Why is the only option here to create more of us at the detriment of them? Why do we continue to devalue their lives to make ours better? All I’m asking.”

“What if we altered Grace instead of souls then?” Jack pondered aloud.

“What?” Both archangels blinked, rearing back slightly. Alter _what_ now?

“The times I’ve created angels before like with Josial,” Jack calmly explained, “I used human souls to do it. What if instead of souls I used Grace this time?”

“We’d become extinct even faster,” Michael remarked dryly with a deep frown, clearly opposed.

“What if we removed the Grace somehow first, though?” the Nephilim argued. “Extracted it?”

“Like how Asmodeus did?” It took everything inside not to given in to fear and unease at the suggestion. Gabe had come a long way from that trauma, but it was still there, lurking underneath the surface. To survive and compartmentalize, he kept it always just out of reach, but it was always there.

“Yes. Something similar would work, I suppose.” Jack nodded slowly, not seeing his uncle’s violent flinch at the agreement. “We would need to test it of course, and I would need a willing—”

Swallowing down his fears, Gabe stretched his arm out slowly, offering himself up like usual.

Surprisingly, though, Michael beat him to it and firmly stated, “I offer my Grace to be used.”

Gabe’s eyes stared back shell-shocked. Since when did big bro offer to take one for the team? He couldn’t recall ever actually. What was going on here? Had he snapped himself to Bizarro World again?

“Actually, I think Uncle Gabe would be the best for this.” Jack’s eyes then softened, meeting the hesitant amber. “The amount I’d require would leave one severely drained in all likelihood.”

“I am willing,” Michael reiterated firmer than before, clearly not taking no for an answer here.

Jack briefly glanced aside and smiled gently. “I’m sure he appreciates your offer, but he was going home anyway. Isn’t that right, Uncle?”

Was he? Gabe glanced at his nephew numbly. He couldn’t recall saying that exactly, but truthfully his mind was elsewhere these days.

In fact, he now had a newfound respect for those who could balance their work and home lives successfully. Because it was harder than people realized. When he was home, he wished he were back in Heaven. When he was in Heaven, he wished he were back at home. It was a never-ending vicious cycle.

“Uh, yeah.” He must have said it accidentally during one of his weaker moments when he longed to be home with the kids and Sam again. It wouldn’t have been the first time he said something and forgot it after all. He forced a smile to sell his words, feeling his brother watching him extra carefully.

It had been a bit since he had seen his family. Possibly two or three weeks at most, so he was definitely missing them terribly. Each time he left, in fact, was harder than the last if he were telling the truth. However, he had an obligation to help his nephew, considering all that Jack did for them. For _him_.

“You’re certain you’re good with this?” Michael asked, staring as if Gabe grew another head.

“Yes. Jeez, Mikey. Since when are you the overprotective one?” he laughed off, feeling the weary mask slipping unfortunately. His mirth instantly fell away when his brother grabbed his arm.

“Since I failed my job to protect you, little brother of mine,” Michael answered bluntly. “I know this will be difficult. Please. Allow me to do this. You’ve done enough.”

Barking out a harsh laugh explosively, Gabe yanked his arm back. “I’ve done _enough_?” he repeated bitterly. “Tell me. What the hell have I done? No. Seriously. Tell me!” He then snapped his fingers and scoffed. “There. Right there. There’s the brother I remember. The one who constantly looked down his nose at me. The ‘Why are you always a screw up, Gabe’ look.”

“Brother—”

He was too lost in his anger, though. “This crap about you wanting to protect me now? Ha! You’re just feeling guilty and want to spare yourself. So, you know what? Nah. I don’t need your so-called protection bullshit now. I did it! Me, Mikey! By myself. Like always. So, if this is going to leave me drained and allow me to be with my _real_ family, then so be it. Sign me up!” He then turned away, catching Jack’s awkward stance. Maybe that was a bit over the top and nearing hysteric levels on second thought, but it frankly just irked him these days whenever someone insinuated, usually family, he was weak nowadays. He wasn’t. He had survived. He was moving on. He had to. “So, kiddo, let’s do this.”

Jack watched him for a moment before he nodded sharply, seemingly finding the answer he had been looking for somehow. Not that it was clear what exactly the kid was looking for exactly.

“I’ll return you to Sam once it’s finished,” his nephew explained. “And if all goes well, you should be at full power again in a week.”

“Good.” Hopefully he’d be strong enough to explain what happened before he passed out at least. Otherwise, he’d have an anxious Winchester on his ass, and those were undoubtedly the worst.

At the feel of Jack’s hand against his chest a moment later, he closed his eyes and thought of his family to ignore the ripping pain. He couldn’t wait to see them again. To hold them. To just be with them. As more darkness and pain filtered in, he found himself struggling to block it all out. He could tell his nephew was trying his best to be gentle. Rather gentle as one could be when draining Grace this way.

When he felt the insistent tug behind his navel a moment later, he reopened his eyes and quietly chuckled at the sight of the familiar darkened bedroom. He was home. Finally. He let out a small sigh before he stepped forward. Everything shifted then, and he fell into the warm king bed from exhaustion.

“Gabe?” Sam sounded groggy to his right but still so damn gorgeous.

“M here,” he mumbled into the sheets. Sam must have changed them while he had been gone because they felt different now. He groaned lightly when lights turned on. Yep. Sam _had_ changed them.

“What happened?” His husband moved closer, the bed dipping slightly. “Gabe?!”

He tried to lift his head up to answer but couldn’t. He was so damn drained. So he remained all sprawled out on his stomach as Sam examined him for any injuries, trying to figure out what had happened to cause this. He didn’t make a single remark when pushed onto his side.

“Gabe?”

His moose gently lifted his head once undoubtedly convinced Gabe wasn’t suffering from any unknown injuries. The archangel jerked his hand minutely, grateful how his husband picked up the movement and grabbed his hand without question. He squeezed their hands and sighed contently, his thumb brushing over the silver wedding ring tenderly. He loved seeing that ring on Sam’s hand.

“Answer me. Are you hurt?”

“No,” Gabe feebly replied. Exhausted, yes, but not hurt. “M makin’ angels,” he slurred back.

“Making angels?” His husband paused before he added, “Like, _what_ , up in Heaven?”

“Yeah.” Lifting a finger for each following word, he then put his fingers together. “Jack . . . Grace . . . angels.” Yawning again, he then nuzzled further into Sam’s lap. He heard the quiet, confused laugh above before fingers started to run lightly through his golden waves. Gabe nearly fell asleep to it.

“So, let me see if I understand. Jack is somehow making angels again, but this time he used your Grace to do it.” He chuckled at Gabe’s weak squeeze. “Well, next time, have him pin a note, will you?” Sam cupped his cheek tenderly, catching the fluttering eyes. “I thought you were hurt or something.”

“S ‘ine,” he mumbled, relaxing into his husband’s touch more. “S ‘ice.” _So very nice . . ._

A moment later, when Sam’s gentle touch was replaced as he forced Gabe into the usual sleeping position complete with head on pillow, the exhausted archangel grunted weakly. His body had reacted irrefutably to the delicious manhandling like usual. He was exhausted, yes, but his craving intensified.

Wet, maddening heat then enveloped his hardening length not long after, causing him to let out a low sigh and sink into the mattress completely. _Oh . . ._ “Y’ss,” he hummed his consent. This— _yes . . ._

It then vanished briefly, causing him to blink from the quickness of its disappearance.

“Shh,” whispered his husband, glancing up with a lopsided smirk. “You’ll wake the kids.”

Asking him to be quiet during one of Sam’s amazing blowjobs, though, was like asking— _OH!_

His husband continued the previous torture then, wrapping his lips back around the thick cock. A sharp gasp punctured the silence followed by low groans. And then Sam sucked hard as he pulled back.

Being so drained, Gabe couldn’t show his appreciation in his usual filth-riddled ways, but, damn, he had missed this. Missed Sam. Moaning noisily, he gave in completely and let go, submitting entirely to his husband’s every whim. Never once disappointed, his entire world exploded soon after, splitting him before his pieces rapidly reassembled after the unexpected orgasm had ripped out of him.

“Wow. Quickest one yet,” Sam laughed before they shared a quick, dirty salty kiss. “Love you.”

A lone raised finger was the reply as Gabe soon buried himself into the pillow and passed out.


	2. Only Human

The next time he woke, Gabe found himself wrapped completely around his husband and that sweet ass he loved so much. Their legs were entangled, and fingers were threaded so tightly his felt slightly numb. His nose was pressed firmly into the back of Sam’s neck. They honestly couldn’t be closer if he tried. He smiled groggily before a wince followed a groan. Well, so much for enjoying it.

“Gabe?” His husband’s voice was full of concern and worry tinted with a hint of grogginess.

Anxious Winchesters. Absolute worse. “Go back to sleep.” Gabe untangled quickly to leave.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, reaching back for him.

“Nothing.” He swiftly leaned over and gave Sam a reassuring kiss. When he caught the disbelief, he smiled. _Fine._ He’d tell the truth. “It’s just I have to do that fun thing you humans do and take a piss.”

Rolling away at once, Sam snorted, deciding all was well again and that he could fall back asleep in that case. “Just remember what we tell Dec,” he mumbled, snuggling into his pillow sleepily.

Gabe glanced back, pausing. “Huh?” He hated how he couldn’t remember what _that_ was exactly.

“Make a mess and miss or splash back onto the seat, you clean it up,” Sam recited cheekily.

Grabbing a pillow, he brought it down hard against his moose, who let out a very undignified and very un-mooselike noise of surprise. Served the jackass right, though.

“Asshole.”

“Dick.”

“I’d say more to you, you naughty—” His words were cut off as he doubled over unexpectedly, groaning. Oh, this was annoying as fuck. Why did humans feel so much damn discomfort all the time?

“Just go.”

Not needing to be told twice, Gabe swept out instantly. Sometimes, being human truly blew.

A few minutes later, sighing in relief and not sure how he managed to make it without any unfortunate accidents, he glanced in the mirror as he diligently washed his hands. He wasn’t going to take any chances. He knew he currently had a non-existent immune system without his Grace. So, the last thing he needed was some stupid human illness confining him for the week because of piss poor hygiene practices. He was older than Creation itself. He certainly could wash his damn hands then.

Wincing at his reflection, he glanced away, though. His hair was a golden wavy disaster, and the deep dark circles under his whiskey eyes insinuated he didn’t do well in any of his underground fight rings he had to have been in. Yep. All signs pointed to his being undeniably human, Graceless. Coolio.

Grabbing the towel, he dried off with a sigh. _Huh._ He’d have to find his wedding ring again. He felt naked without it. Which was hilarious considering how he was standing literally naked in the communal bathroom currently. Grabbing a silly robe from the rack beside him, he slipped it on.

His nakedness didn’t bother him honestly (not wearing his wedding ring sure did, though), but as his dear brother-in-law loved to point out, Gabe wasn’t the only person who lived in the bunker and needed to be considerate of others. Though, he was pretty sure if Cassie had been the one who loved to go nude, Dean-o wouldn’t have said a peep, but that was only a _minor_ double standard really.

Walking through the quiet halls, he made his way back. A full week with no heavenly duties. A full week with just his family. And, he supposed, Cas, Dean, and his nephew too if he were honest. He couldn’t think of anything better in the world. It sounded absolutely perfect. Plus, it’d give him time to think about his future. What _he_ wanted. If the pain of being away all the time was worth it.

As he passed his kids’ room, he paused briefly. Would his little Nephilim horrors be awake even? He didn’t have the foggiest clue what time it was, but considering Sam had still been asleep, it had to be sometime pre-dawn. Chewing on his bottom lip, he considered his next actions (for, like, a second) before he slipped inside for a quick peek. What was the worse that’d happen?

From the soft light of the hallway, he could make them out in their individual beds. He smiled warmly and tiptoed towards them, unable to help himself. Declan was cuddling his stuffed platypus, Mister Lovey, facing his little sister who was sleeping restlessly in hers. At the sound of her fitful sleep turning even more violent, Gabe quickly strode over to his baby girl’s side, hating how he couldn’t just ease her into another dream like he occasionally did. She was sitting up, wide eyed, staring straight ahead and thrashing about as if being attacked. Kneeling beside her, he gently pulled her into his arms, needing to hold her, to do something at least. He kept a firm hold as she started to fight him off.

“Shh, love bug, it’s okay,” he murmured, kissing the top of her bobbing head. “It’s just a stupid dream.” He lightly brushed back her light brown hair as she squirmed, still trapped in her terror. “Daddy’s here, sweets. I’ll keep you safe. Shh.” She fought him harder then, her arms flailing out. “It’s okay. Maddie, it’s okay. Daddy’s right here. Shh.” He raked his fingers through her hair lovingly, pausing whenever he’d hit a tangle. He felt absolutely helpless and hated it. However, he remembered what Sam had discovered concerning this terrible thing and did his best not to wake her. If it were a night terror, waking her wouldn’t do any good according to the research. He just needed to comfort her and wait it out. Which was easier fucking said than done. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere, baby girl.” Not for a week at least. “Shh. It’s okay.”

A second later, her body seized up, going absolutely rigid like hard marble in his arms. His heart leapt into his throat, feeling his stomach lurch. If he had his Grace, he could have—

A banshee-worthy shriek filled the air right next to his ear soon after as she instantly wailed.

Gabe held his beautiful little girl tighter then, a chill sweeping down his back. He’d take a thousand years of Asmodeus and torture in Hell than this. Anything but this. This was heartbreaking, soul destroying to witness. He wouldn’t have wished this on anyone. Never before had he felt so powerless as his beautiful baby girl experienced yet another night of inexplicable terror.

“Maddie!”

Amber eyes darted to his son, who had flown (metaphorically thank— _fuck_ —fully) from his bed to her protectively with his hands balled up. Declan stumbled, though, nearly falling at his dad holding her instead of whoever he thought it’d be. “Daddy?” he whispered as if he didn’t believe what he saw.

Gabe shoved down the sudden gut punch that had been triggered with his son’s reaction.

“Hey, slugger.” He then glanced down when his daughter quickly buried her face into his chest with loud sniffles, clearly having woken up now. Her little arms held on for dear life as she settled again. “Shh. I know, sweets.” He kissed her hair again and sighed quietly. His heart broke seeing her still suffering. He had thought her night terrors were getting better, but this showed how wrong he was. “That was a really rough one tonight, wasn’t it?” Not that she likely remembered what it was that had her so scared.

“They’ve been gettin’ worse,” his son explained cutely, his pronunciation just a little off but loads better now than it had prior to Gabe leaving. Declan wrapped his arms around them.

“What do you mean?” he asked, wrapping his arm around his son’s small body.

What the hell did his son mean, _they were getting worse_? How many nights had she woken up like that? How many nights had she suffered since he had left? What the flying actual fuck?!

Declan shrugged, glancing down as his teeth raked over his bottom lip timidly. His long lashes fluttered slowly in sorrow. “Daddy’s been with her a lot.”

The father of two glanced upwards briefly. There was something Sam neglected to mention. Sighing inwardly, he forced a smile, noticing his son’s tensing at his outward display of frustration.

“All right. Go get Mister Lovey,” Gabe ordered. “We’re going to have a sleepover in Daddys’ rest of the night.” Mostly because he didn’t want to let Maddie out of his sight.

“Can we bring Cuddles, too?” Declan asked hesitantly, chewing on his bottom lip more.

“Cuddles?” _All right. Who the fuck was Cuddles?_ Gabe glanced about the room nervously, finding the usual stuffies in their typical spots. He could remember most of their names. At least he was fairly certain he knew most. The more his eyes passed over even more stuffed animals, though, he felt a little bit more regret filter inside. Damn, his kids sure had a lot. Had he and Sam truly given them all of these? It looked worse than a Build-A-Bear workshop in here.

When Declan reached around his sister silently and then held up a fuzzy light green penguin with glittering gold eyes a second later, Gabe let out a relieved breath, laughing quietly.

“Ah! Cuddles, I presume?”

His son nodded immediately. “Daddy got it the other day.”

Course Sam did. Because his husband spoiled their kids rotten, not that Gabe was much better honestly. Because he wasn’t. He was worse. However, Sam was home with the kids more than he was. He swallowed down the sudden guilt that lurched upwards and lodged in his throat fatly at that particular _lovely_ thought. He was home now. That was all that mattered. He was home . . . _now_.

“Daddy?”

He glanced at his son, noticing Declan’s confused look. “Everything’s fine, sport.”

Damn, that kid could sure read him like a book sometimes. Declan was better than Sam somedays actually. Either that, or the feathery father had gotten soft in his old age.

“You sure?”

Gabe laughed softly, nodding and ruffling Declan’s hair. So damn cute. He loved hearing his kids talk. They were so innocent and adorable. They melted his heart every damn second he was around. “Yeah. I just missed you two, and, you know, don’t want to let either of you adorable munchkins of mine out of my sight because of it.” Not necessarily a lie, but not exactly the whole truth either.

That said, he didn’t need his Grace to know how bright his son’s soul had beamed at that. It was all in those stunning eyes of his. Liquid sunshine he had heard a few people comment. Though, they used the same phrase with Maddie sometimes too occasionally; mostly whenever she was completely overjoyed over something. His kids honestly were the perfect blend of him and Sam. Truly.

His daughter sniffled again, rubbing her nose against his robed shoulder. His son grimaced at the action, Gabe noticed idly, but thankfully Declan said nothing, keeping the peace for once.

“All right, sweet peas. Upsy-daisy,” he murmured, wrapping his arms tighter around their little bodies before he raised himself up to stand. He did his best to ignore the aches and stiffness he felt in his joints, not to mention the loud pops as well, while he carried the two on each side of his hip to his room.

When he saw his brother-in-law round a corner in front of them after a few minutes, he forced a smile and repressed a wince. If Dean was up, then it wouldn’t be long before Cas would be, too.

“Hey, Dean-o.”

“Hey, so you’re home then?” Green eyes briefly darted to the kids who kept their noses firmly buried in their respective side of their father’s neck. Dean’s brows furrowed slightly before his eyes flicked back to Gabe. He mouthed a silent “Bad night again?”

Nodding back, the father of two frowned. So . . . Dean knew how bad it was, too. _Peachy_.

“Hey,” Dean paused, “what do you guys say to breakfast in bed with your dads today? My treat.”

Gabe felt his kids shift slightly before his son raised his head up to glance at their uncle.

“I can make those omelets you love so much,” Dean offered, giving the kids his best smile.

“With bacon?”

There was that cute little kid talk again that Gabe loved so much. It was so imperfectly perfect.

“Of course,” Dean drawled back, chuckling warmly. “As if I’d ever leave that out. What am I? Your dad Sam?” he teased. “Please . . . bacon will always be there for my favorite niece and nephew.”

They giggled and nodded before both Declan and Maddie replied, “K.”

“All right. Winchester special omelets coming up.” Dean met Gabe’s gaze again. “And you can tell King Sammy I’ll make sure to make his stupid vegetable ones with extra spinach and crap.”

“Will do.” He forced his smile more, feeling even more awkward. He could tell Dean wanted to ask more, but he wouldn’t with the kids right there. “All right, kiddos. Say bye to Uncle Dean.”

“Bye,” they quietly murmured before they buried their noses back into Gabe’s neck again.

He bowed his head in gratitude, even though he really wanted to thank his brother-in-law more. He didn’t know what he’d do without the man somedays. He never once had to worry about his kids thinking they weren’t loved. With a Winchester around every corner practically, the kids always knew.

Without another word, Dean turned away and headed towards the kitchen, getting ready for the rest of his day. So, Gabe did the same, continuing towards his room a moment later.

“Wait!” Maddie screeched out of nowhere. She wrenched herself back to reach out to Dean.

Gabe opened his mouth to call out to help her, but promptly snapped his mouth shut. Crackling energy encased Dean, who now stood frozen in place with his back to them. Amber eyes flicked to his daughter, and his brows disappeared underneath his hairline. Had his baby girl done that? _Damn . . ._

A second later, the energy field that held Dean in place vanished, letting the retired hunter sag against the wall he quickly leaned against with large gasps of air.

Yeah, Gabe would talk to her about that later. Much later. When they were alone. But _damn_!

“Dean?” He winced when his brother-in-law whirled around. “Are you all right?” At the responding murderous glare, Gabe nodded slowly. Yeah, that was a stupid question on second thought.

Green eyes then moved to Maddie, who watched her uncle curiously. Dean blinked a moment later, mask slipping firmly in place again as if all were well. “What’d you need, Princess Maddie?” he asked her gently, somehow keeping his irritation at the display of power from his voice.

“Can Daddy get one, too?” she asked quietly, sniffling again with watery puppy dog eyes.

He glanced at Gabe in confusion before he forced a low chuckle. “Sure thing, poppet. I’ll even make his with some extra goodies.” When she smiled brightly and turned back to resume snuggling against Gabe’s neck, Dean pointed back with a hard glare. “Later,” he mouthed in obvious warning.

Gabe barely held back his eye roll. Yeah, he got that. Thanks. It wasn’t as if it was his first time giving that particular speech. He had only given it thousands of times before, seeing as how he had been the archangel in charge of all new fledglings. Thanks to his older brothers either being too psychotic to be left alone with younger gens (Lucifer); feeling like they had more important duties on Earth than babysit (Raphael); or far too up Dad’s ass to care (Michael), nurturing new angels naturally was left to Gabriel. And he honestly had loved every moment of it. Being around Cassie and Balthy during their early formative years (and yes, he was going to say that they had early years, thank you) was the best thing that had ever happened. Until, well, Sam and their two adorable children of course.

Turning away again, Gabe continued on, grateful there were no other sudden displays of power from his daughter. When he reached door 21, he paused and bumped his hip against it to open it further.

“Gabe?” When he didn’t reply, his husband then instantly sat up, sunflower eyes widening at the sight of the kids in Gabe’s arms. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Sam looked them over puzzled, clearly thinking the worst. “Are you all right?” He grabbed them, pausing at a hand resting atop of his.

“I just felt like having a sleepover tonight,” Gabe finally said, meeting his husband’s bewildered look. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been home, so, you know, why not?”

Oh, they knew why not. All the books and research Sam had found told them why letting the kids sleep in their bed was the worst possible idea in the history of bad ideas. But, to be perfectly honest, Gabe really didn’t care right then. He needed to reassure himself his daughter was okay. They could deal with whatever consequences came out of this later. Like everything else they had done in their lives.

Right now, though, he needed to be with his family, cuddling and snuggling and just loving them. It had been too damn long this time. It truly had. And he didn’t even know how long it really had been because he was depowered now. Time felt different, strange even, albeit a little confusing, too.

“All right.” Sam then pulled back the covers. “Get in here, guys.” He chuckled when their kids scrambled underneath instantly as if they had done this a million times before.

“Your brother is making us breakfast in bed this morning, FYI.”

“Seriously?” His husband shook his head, laughing. “Wow. You should come home more often.”

Knowing it was a jest, Gabe brushed it off, heading to the dresser. He frowned when he noticed his cell wasn’t on its charger like usual. His ring was also missing. Sam must have moved them after he left. He’d ask later. Finding the Stud Puffin sweats at the bottom of the drawer, he quickly changed into it, slipping the robe off and onto the floor. He’d throw the discarded robe in the hamper later on.

“What?”

“You have others,” Sam pointed out. “You don’t always need to wear those ones.”

“Yes, but I love _these_ ones,” he argued, walking back slowly. Why his husband always insisted on putting the things at the bottom of the pile was beyond him. If one had a favorite pair of clothes, it should always be on the top in Gabe’s opinion, not the bottom. He jumped onto their bed a moment later, hearing soft giggles from their children instantly. He glanced at them and made a silly face, having a hard time maintaining it when the kids dissolved into a fit of high-pitched squeals. He’d never tire of hearing that giddiness. He truly wouldn’t. It knit him back into the Raggedy ol’ archangel he was.

“Uh-oh,” Sam gasped playfully. “Quick. Get behind me, kids. I’ll protect you!” he declared, lips twitching as his eyes sparkled brightly in absolute love and mischief. These moments gave Gabe life.

Lunging forward, Gabe quickly descended and tickled the squealing, happy youngsters. Sam’s and his laughter soon joined theirs. All of them radiating love and warmth. Everything he ever wanted.

“Daddy!” giggled Maddie, trying to squirm out of his reach. “Stop!”

“I-I can’t,” he lied, hearing Sam’s snort next to him. “The tickle monster has control of me.”

“Daddy!” squealed the kids, laughing noisily as they pressed harder against Sam’s side. “Help!”

Sam pulled them back protectively. “Wait!” he declared, his lips quirking up in silent laughter. “I know what we need to do, guys.” He had their attention. “I’ve faced this kind of monster before.” He hugged them closer, meeting Gabe’s glittering amused eyes. “But I’m going to need your help!”

“What?” they cried. “What do we do?” They were so into this silly make-believe game.

“We need to cover him in kisses! Quick!” he declared. “Love is the only way to break the spell!”

Gabe half-laughed/half-snorted. Seriously? That was what his brave former hunter came up with? Of all the ridiculous things—

When the kids tackled him, he fell back, though, feigning them pinning him to the bed. He took his role seriously, yelling and writhing as his kids kissed him all over on the face. They were so into their play that he nearly burst out laughing at the sight of their little mirrored looks of absolute focus and dedication. They kissed his cheeks and face as if his life hung in the balance. As if truly to save him.

“Daddy!” yelled Maddie, turning back to Sam. “t’s not working!” She stumbled over her words slightly, but her fathers understood her well enough. Her eyes were wide and turning watery quickly.

“Move back. I’ve got this.” His husband then pounced and pressed his full weight down atop of Gabe as their kids scooted back to the headboard to give them space. His hand slid under Gabe’s head, quickly deepening their frantic, illicit kiss, tongues rolling together. Every ounce of love transferred through their frenzied connection. Sam’s other hand then snaked lower, his fingertips and nails raking across flesh and leaving thin, red marks, before he cupped Gabe possessively through his sweats. Shockwaves raced through him, exploding bursts of pleasure and lust. _Oh, berries and cream . . ._

“Is it working?” Declan asked innocently, leaning closer after a moment.

Sam’s lips muffled Gabe’s groan, but it was obvious from the way the children both yelled ‘Yuck’ simultaneously they had been caught. Gabe, however, was too lost in the deliciousness to talk.

“Yep. I think it did,” his husband declared shortly after, pulling back with a roguish grin.

“Daddy?” softly said Maddie soon after, her confusion evident as she glanced between them.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Sam reluctantly turned away as Gabe tried to remember how to talk again.

“Why does your breath stink?” She gave them both a suspicious look. From the mouth of babes.


	3. Higher

At a quiet knock a little later on, both Sam and he raised their heads, glancing as the door slowly opened. They smiled warmly at Dean when he walked inside carrying a tray full of food. Quickly extricating himself from the sleeping kids to help, Sam grabbed it from his brother soon after.

“Thanks.” Dean’s eyes glanced briefly at his niece and nephew, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “They look peaceful,” he whispered, careful not to wake them.

“For now,” murmured his husband, setting the tray down before he glanced at Gabe.

“So, short stack,” Dean said softly, “how long are you here for this time? Just for the holiday?”

“A week,” he answered, his fingers absentmindedly stroking his kids’ hair. Just a week.

“Well, you were missed, dude,” remarked his brother-in-law quietly. “And not just because Sammy here was being an absolute nonstop bitch with you gone either.”

The feathery father chuckled gently.

“Oh, just get out of here,” huffed his husband, glaring at the older Winchester.

“Going.” Dean grinned widely. “Holler if you two decide you need a night while he’s here. I know it’s been awhile.” He chuckled when Sam threw a pillow, catching it with a snicker. “I mean, it’s only been _months_. Just, you know, snap your fingers first, so we don’t have to fix every light, all right?”

Gabe’s eyes narrowed, though, his hand pausing as he stared numbly at his brother-in-law. What did Dean mean, _months_? Time moved differently up in Heaven, sure, but it couldn’t possibly have been that long. Could it? He glanced at his husband, throat closing at the look mirrored back.

“How many?” Gabe choked out a moment later. _No . . ._

“What?”

“How many months have I been gone?”

He recoiled inside when Sam glanced away with a sigh, the earlier happiness gone entirely now.

“A few, but it’s okay.”

“How many?” Gabe repeated slowly, ignoring the ‘It’s okay.’ _Because it so fucking wasn’t!_

“Three and a half,” answered Dean quietly a moment later when it was obvious Sam wouldn’t.

He had been gone for three and a half months? _Seriously?_

“Daddy?” softly mumbled a little voice beside him.

He couldn’t get past the lump lodged in his throat, so he glanced down at his daughter, smiling while trying to hold back his growing despair. He had been away from them for _three and half months_?

“Don’t be sad,” she calmly told him, reaching up and patting his bearded cheek lovingly. Forgiveness was woven in her eyes. “We knows.” She then hugged him tightly and snuggled in more.

“You know _what_?” he asked hesitantly, temporarily forgetting all about the others in the room. He gently pulled back to meet her eyes. “Maddie,” his voice lowered, “fluff bunny, what do you know?”

“You love us,” she replied, shrugging nonchalantly. “But they need you up there more. So, we got to share and stuff. Which is stupid but okay.”

He instantly wrapped her up in his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Oh, Mads.” His heart shattered for her. For them. She squirmed out of his arms, though, a second later before she cupped his face in her little hands. Her face was scrunched up as she gave him a look worthy of Sam’s.

“Daddy.”

Wetting his lips, he forced a watery smile at her. So much of Sam was in her. So much.

“It’s okay,” she declared so wholesomely, so innocently that it was so damn adorable and heartbreaking it hurt. “And we love you.” She then flicked him hard in the ear unexpectedly. “So quit being a dum’ass.”

“Madelyn Maeve Winchester!” scolded Sam instantly, his mouth dropping. He then turned towards his belly-laughing brother. “Damn it, Dean! This is all your fault!”

“Well, she’s definitely a Winchester now,” happily proclaimed Dean, brushing off Sam’s ire.

Gabe, however, brushed off both hunters and their typical sibling bickering, staring instead at his little girl. His head tilted slightly as his eyes narrowed.

“Uh, Cherry Pop?”

“Yes, Daddy?” Oh, so now she was doing her most innocent routine? _Uh-huh._

“Where’d you hear that phrase?” The second he noticed her blink of surprise followed by eyes minutely glancing guiltily in Sam’s direction, he snorted. “Oh, my sweet, sweet baby girl.” He then caught Declan’s head raising as the four-year-old finally decided to rejoin the land of the living. “Well, hello there, sport.” His son rubbed at the eye sleepers, blinking owlishly as he yawned wide enough everyone could see the back of his throat unfortunately. Manners Declan clearly did not have.

“You’re loud,” complained the little boy, hugging his stuffed platypus closer. His eyes then instantly widened into saucers when he saw the food set in front of them. “Food!” He lunged forward, only to be held back. “But—”

“Whoa, boy!” Gabe laughed, holding him. “It’s not going anywhere. You can wait.”

“But it’s— _Daddy_!” Declan whined, twisting himself around to look back.

“I know, but you can wait.” The kid ate like a garbage disposal sometimes, he swore.

His son glared before he fell back on his butt and crossed his arms. “No fair,” he pouted.

Out of the corner of Gabe’s eye, he caught his daughter’s dramatic eye roll. They were adorable little brats, and he absolutely loved them. How could he ever leave them? Honestly? How?

“How about we thank Uncle Dean-o for making us breakfast this morning?” he suggested.

Declan scoffed sassily, yelping when Maddie punched him in the arm.

“Bad! Bad brother!” she scolded cutely.

“All right, guys. That’s enough,” Sam sighed, glancing at Gabe exasperatedly. Why had they wanted kids again? Though, both knew it was more of a whoops than on purpose in both instances.

“Nuh-uh!” Declan screeched back before he shoved her hard. “Bad _sister_!”

His husband and Dean instantly lunged forward with Sam catching her by some miracle before she fell off the edge of the bed while Gabe quickly yanked their son back hard.

“Declan Ryan Winchester!” he growled, furious at the brat.

“Yes?” replied his son, glancing up in complete mock innocence.

“We do not shove, nor do we try to hurt our family!” Gabe’s heart thundered uncontrollably inside his chest as he stared down at the impertinent little imp. “Do you hear me?” _Holy fuck! Did that just happen?_ He glanced at Sam, sighing inwardly when he saw that Maddie was okay in Sam’s arms.

“Sorry, Daddy,” grumbled Declan, his eyes lowering with a huffed sigh. He then mumbled under his breath, “She started it, though.”

He immediately grasped his son’s chin and forced Declan’s head to tilt up gently. He caught the wide eyes and frowned more. His kids knew he’d never hurt them, but he clearly shocked Declan now.

“I don’t care if she stabbed you with a damn Angel blade, bucko,” he flatly replied. “We do not hurt our family. We do not hit. We do not push. We do not punch. We do not bite. We do not kick. And we most certainly do _not_ shove.” He leveled a mild glare on his increasingly more guilt-ridden son. “You could have seriously hurt her just now. Do you understand that? How would you have felt then?”

“But she—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, his voice lowering to a growl. He swore it was like Cas and Balthy all over again. “Do you think I always retaliated whenever my brothers were being assholes?” He didn’t need to glance to see that particular wince from Sam. “No, I didn’t. Because violence never gets you anywhere, but blood on your hands and guilt inside here,” he replied, tapping against his son’s chest.

“Sorry.”

“Oh, you don’t need to apologize to me, Tiger Prince,” he scoffed with pinched lips and firm dad stare in place. “Apologize to your sister.” Yep, this was eerily similar to the good ol’ years upstairs.

Declan heaved a heavy exhale before he glanced at his sister, who was wrapped tightly around Sam like a mini-octopus. She seemed clearly rattled by the shove, not that Gabe blamed her at all.

“Sorry, Maddie,” mumbled his little boy softly.

“K,” she replied wobbly, sucking on her bottom lip nervously with tear-filled eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Sam quietly murmured, tenderly brushing back her long light brown hair. “Do you have anything to say to your brother?”

“Nope.”

“Madelyn Maeve,” warned his husband, raising a brow at her.

“Yes?” She had perfected her innocent routine into pure flawlessness now.

Gabe bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Oh, she was smart. She was giving Sam the ol’ puppy dog eye treatment now, too. His moose was having none of it, though. She’d learn soon.

“Young lady,” said his husband, crossing his arms in response.

“Young Daddy,” she replied back, mirroring her father as she batted her eyes sweetly.

Gabe bit harder, nearly crying as he tried to hold back his laughter. Oh, damn, she was good. He caught his brother-in-law’s nod of appreciation from across the way.

“That’s how you want to play this?” Sam asked neutrally.

Their daughter’s eyes squinted in confusion before she turned to Gabe.

“Don’t look at me,” remarked the heavenly father, holding his hands up defensively. “This is between you and Daddy, little firecracker of mine.” He was so not going to step on Sam’s toes on this.

“But—”

“Nope,” he replied, shaking his head firmly. “You got to deal with the cards you were dealt, Missy. Actions have consequences. First lesson of many you’ll learn.”

She huffed, puffing her cheeks out adorably before she glanced at her older brother.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, clearly not sorry in the slightest.

Sam groaned silently in response, glancing at Gabe briefly. His eyes screamed what he couldn’t say. Was their daughter for real now? A second later, his husband turned his attention on their son.

“Declan, buddy, do you accept her apology?”

“Sure” was the sullen reply.

“Awesome.” Sam then sighed heavily. “Well, since you both decided to hurt each other, you’re both going to help Uncle Dean later with any chores he has instead of watching the movie with Alec.”

“But—!” they both whined and huffed grumpily. “No fair!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear it. What was that?” Gabe piped up seconds later, catching the abrupt guilty looks from the little demons. They went silent as church mice then strangely enough. Yep, still had it. _Take that, Cassie._

Dean took his leave then, patting Sam’s shoulder sympathetically as he brushed past to leave.

“All right. Let’s eat some breakfast.” Sam and Gabe shared a look, both sighing inwardly. Kids.

* * *

After getting their exhausted kids ready for bed later that night, the fathers bent down over each kid’s respective bed, giving each a goodnight kiss before switching.

“Daddy?”

“What, Maddie?” Sam sighed back, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

“Can Daddy tell us a story?”

“A story?” Gabe forced a confused laugh. “You just heard one.” Literally. Sam had just finished a few moments ago about some wackadoodle rabbit named Paul, Peter, or something, who was causing trouble everywhere in some garden. Not exactly the book he’d have chosen, considering the kids were genetically predisposed to mischief and troublemaking already, but who was he here to argue really? He had left Sam to raise his kids alone for three and half months. Yeah, he definitely had no say in this.

“But that was Daddy _reading_. We want one from you.”

He glanced at Sam and sighed apologetically, noticing his husband’s wave of ‘It’s fine.’ It wasn’t, though. He knew that. He was sure that likely hurt like hell to hear.

“Um, I can’t think of anything tonight. How about tomorrow? I’ll give you one then, okay?”

“No!” Maddie yelled, slamming her little fists down onto her bed. “I wanna hear one now!”

“One!” Sam called out neutrally, clearly having done this numerous times before.

Gabe felt the guilt settle heavier again. He should have been here. He had promised he’d be a better father than Chuck. That he’d be there for his kids always, yet he had broken that. Hadn’t he?

She glared at Sam, her face scrunching up in pure anger.

This was going to be her twelfth meltdown by Gabe’s estimate. He was on his very last shred of patience. He was tired of the screaming, the crying, but mostly, though, the reminder how he hadn’t been here for three and half fucking months. His absence meant Sam had to handle all of the meltdowns, all the temper tantrums by himself, or break down and Dean and Cassie for help instead of having his husband, his partner, there to help like it should’ve been.

“Maddie,” cautioned Gabe, giving her his best ‘don’t test me’ look. He was thankful when she frowned and glanced down, calming just a bit. He then sighed silently. “All right, buckaroos. I’ll make a deal with you. If you go to sleep right now, I’ll give you the best, fantastic, mind-blowing story of your life tomorrow. All about Uncle Cassie, Uncle Balthy, and Daddy when they were younger.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he replied, nodding. He’d have to find one that wouldn’t end in a million questions for his and Sam’s sanity, but he was sure he could find something.

The kids glanced at one another before they nodded in agreement.

Thank the Heavenly Host.

“Can we see your wings then, Daddy?” Declan asked a moment later, biting his reddened lip.

Gabe blew out a breath. _Well, shit._ “Normally, little man, I’d be all for showing off.” He watched his son’s face rapidly fall. “Sadly, though, I’m, well, human currently, which means I can’t access my Grace—my power. Meaning my wings are sort of stuck inside for now. I’ll show you as soon as I’m strong enough again, though.”

“Did you get hurt?” Maddie questioned.

His son, however, asked surprisingly, “Did someone take it again?”

He stared at them fondly. Damn, they were smart and good. A little on the bratty side, but that could be corrected if he and Sam stopped spoiling them every two minutes. “No. I’m helping your cousin Jack. You remember him, right?” They both nodded slowly. “Well, my race is dying because angels are certifiable racist pieces of—”

“Gabe,” Sam cut in sharply, shaking his head with a pointed look.

He knew Sam was right. He did. But sugarcoating things had always felt . . . strange. Like he was lying to his kids. And he was tired of all the lies that had mounted over the millennia.

“Not all angels are like Uncles Cas and Balthy, Cousin Jack, and me, all right?” he started again. He was grateful when Maddie and Declan nodded in understanding. Though, if they really understood it would be another thing, but he’d take the win for now. “Sometimes they’re like Uncle Michael, and they mean well, but they just can’t get over their beliefs and teachings. So they think they’re the superior race, the cool ones in the universe, and they view people like your daddy here and Uncle Dean as being . . .” he paused briefly as he tried to think up a good analogy. “They view them as being the gum under their shoes, okay?”

“Uncle Michael sucks.”

“Yeah,” Maddie agreed with her brother, nodding. “He’s a dick.”

Sam sighed heavily, likely giving Gabe bitchface #43 by his estimate, not that he had any intention of looking. He just had that feeling.

“Yeah, he’s got his moments,” Gabe concurred. “But Uncle Mikey just—well, he hasn’t been around humans enough yet to understand how cool they are like I know. Your uncle’s learning, though. Uncle Adam is, uh, well, helping with that, I think.”

“Uncle Adam?” they parroted before both heads whipped towards Sam.

Oh. The kids didn’t know about Adam. Yikes.

This was why it was super important to have open communication always. At least in theory. He glanced at Sam, noticing the sarcastic look of gratitude in his direction. Honestly, though, how was he supposed to know that the kids didn’t know that? The little voice in the back of his head reminded him so nicely that he’d have known if he had been around more and made his kids his priority.

“Uncle Adam is Uncle Dean’s and my half-brother. We share our dad together,” patiently explained Sam.

“Why haven’t we met him?” Declan asked.

“Because Uncle Adam spends his time up in Heaven with Cousin Jack and Uncle Michael.”

“Why?”

“Because he and Uncle Michael are really close to one another.”

“Why?”

Sam groaned, his eyes darting to Gabe. It was going to be one of those nights.

“You guys remember when I told you how I don’t really look like this?” Gabe asked, picking up the conversation for his husband. He couldn’t make up for the missing months, but he could help now. “That this is a vessel, and that I’m really a badass being of light and waves with cool bitching wings?” He caught Sam’s brow raise and rolled his eyes in response. What? He was. When the kids nodded slowly, he smiled bigger. “Well, Uncle Adam is Uncle Mikey’s vessel.”

“What?”

Okay. Maybe he supposed that was a little bit more advanced for a three- and four-year-old, but in his defense, they were a three- and four-year-old _Nephilim_ , his kids.

Gabe sighed heavily. “All right. So, this,” he said, motioning to himself, “is my vessel. A long, long time ago, when people wore cool clothes called togas for things other than drunken frat parties—”

“—Gabriel!” squawked his moose, positively horrified for some reason.

“—I met a human who was kind and nice to me. I did something for him, and he gave me permission to use his body as my vessel while I was in hiding. Okay?” He caught their quick head bobs. “Uncle Adam is letting Uncle Mikey, who is like me and a badass light being of waves and such, borrow his body. In other words, they’re sharing. Got it?”

“But why?”

Yep, this wasn’t going well.

“Because Uncle Mikey and Uncle Adam were together for a very long time and have gotten used to one another.”

“Like you and Daddy?”

“More like Uncles Cas and Dean,” he corrected, noticing Sam’s frown. What? It was.

“Do they love each other?”

“Probably,” he answered. “But that’s not the point.” He then sighed heavily. What was he trying to say again? He shook his head silently. “Guys, let me ask you something. And I need you to be honest, okay?” He caught their head bobs. “Do you understand why I wasn’t here sometimes? Why I go away?” He felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder but said nothing.

“Cause you’re helping Cousin Jack,” Maddie said cutely.

“Nuh-uh. It’s cause Daddy’s trying to make things better for all us,” Declan argued, scoffing and shaking his head. “Cause Daddy’s cool.”

Hearing his husband’s soft laugh, Gabe glanced up at Sam. Their son thought he was cool? Oh, man. He tried to keep it together, but of all the things, hearing that was the one that got him the most today. His son thought he was cool. He was cool . . . How could that stupid thing affect him this much?

“Yeah, your dad’s all right, I suppose,” Sam teased, bumping against him playfully. “All right. Bedtime. For real this time.” He motioned for them to lay back. “Down you go again.”

“Daddy?”

“Maddie,” replied both Gabe and Sam with matching sighs. Their daughter . . .

“Can you make sure the monsters stay away?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes lowered guiltily.

“You heard her, Sam.”

“No! I want you, Daddy!” Maddie argued back loudly, grabbing Gabe’s hand instead.

He blinked, glancing at his husband. Him? Sam was the retired hunter here. It had literally been what Sam did for years. What did Gabe know about monster fighting? Running?

“Uh, all right. Sure.” He cleared his throat, slowly turning back. He bent over her, kissing her forehead with a soft sigh as he tried to think of something he could do. Usually if he were around and it was bedtime, he’d just give her a new stuffed animal to cuddle, hence why the kids had a freaking zoo of stuffies these days. He then twisted towards Sam. “Borrow your knife for a second?”

Sam’s eyes widened, but the pocketknife his husband carried more out of habit than need these days was offered soon after without question.

“Thanks.” Gabe pulled out the blade section before he slid it across his palm slowly, slicing a thin line. He heard Maddie and Declan’s little gasps but said nothing. Wiping the bloody blade against the edge of his sweats to clean it, he handed it back, knowing Sam would clean it properly later.

A moment later, he used his blood to paint a sigil, careful not to finish it, above her bed. He then closed his eyes and pressed his bloodied hand atop of it, murmuring a soft phrase in Enochian that basically asked for a blessing on his child. If anyone were listening anymore, it would potentially work. He wasn’t holding his breath, since Jack usually avoided the throne room at all cost, Gabe had noticed.

“There you go. Now no monsters can set foot in here, or they’ll face an army of Smurfs.” A little white lie wouldn’t hurt now and again. And if it helped her sleep through the night, it was worth it.

“Smurfs?”

Gabe instantly glanced at Sam. Hold up. His moose hadn’t taught their children about the badass Smurfs yet? Seriously?

His husband had the foresight to look ashamed. As he should. “Um, the Smurfs are a, well, sort of blue cartoon things who wore white pants and funny hats.” Sam shrugged flippantly. “They were cartoons on Saturday mornings when I was growing up.” He then sighed heavily. “I honestly didn’t really pay much attention to them, guys.”

Obviously.

“They were in Belgian _comics_ first in ‘58,” Gabe corrected with a frown. “Before they came over to the States and became famous, finding themselves in every show imaginable. And their hats for the record, smarty pants, were Phrygian Caps, which quickly became a symbol for freedom.” What the hell had his moose watched growing up? Seriously. Not knowing his Smurfy history. Blasphemy!

“Wait!” Declan cried. “They lived with the waffles?!”

“Um, well, no. Their houses were—uh—I don’t remember—Gabe?”

“Mushrooms,” he replied flatly, growing more and more disappointed by the second. How had he not known his husband didn’t know the Smurfs? “They were—” He then snapped his fingers on impulse and blew out a huge breath when nothing happened. “Go get the laptop. We’re watching it.”

“What?”

“Please,” Gabe added.

“Uh,” Sam cleared his throat, frowning, “it’s 7:30.”

“So?”

“So, the kids go to bed at 7:30. Otherwise, they—”

“I’ll take full responsibility,” he declared. “Just please. It’s, like, an hour movie. If that.” When he could tell his husband wasn’t budging, he sighed heavily. Time to bring out the big guns then. “You know that thing we really like when the kids are asleep we haven’t done in a really, really long time?” He caught the blink of surprise followed by hesitant glance at the kids. “I’m down for it. And with your brother’s offer . . . well, I’ll even throw in a full day tomorrow of me watching the kids, so you get an entire day to yourself for once, deal?”

Sam gave him a look, clearly still not sure he should agree. “Throw in a massage tonight, and you have yourself a deal.”

Chuckling, he nodded. “Seal it with a kiss.”

“Only demons do that, Gabe.”

“Do they?” he replied flippantly, snorting when Sam rolled his eyes before fingers lightly slid against Gabe’s neck and tilted his head up gently. It was a brief, chaste kiss they shared, but it’d do for now, he supposed. After all, it was a promised kiss for much more later.

“All right, monkeys,” Sam sighed. “We’ll watch the movie.”

The kids cheered instantly, brightening up and clapping.

“Snuggle in and choose your dad.”

Gabe blinked when Maddie instantly threw her arms around him, yanking him forward. What in the world? She usually favored Sam. He glanced at his husband who also found her choice surprising. He turned to Declan, catching the pout. However, Sam instantly scooped their son up out of bed, settling him against his side.

“Come on, Dec. Let’s go get the laptop while your sister and Daddy talk.” They were out of the room before Gabe could even say a word.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, ladybug?” he murmured, turning back to his baby girl. He caught her eyes filled with tears and instantly pulled her into his arms to hold her. “Oh, sweets. What’s wrong?” She had gotten her way. Again. There was literally nothing he could think of to cause these crocodile tears.

“Nothing,” she cried, obviously lying through her tears. She buried her head into the crook of his neck, little sobs racking her small body as she fell further apart in his arms.

He lightly rubbed her back and sighed heavily, feeling his heart twisting and ripping inside. What was going on? Why was she crying? If he had his Grace, he could have figured it out right away. Grace made most everything easy and simple. However, without it, he was practically neutered.

“Mads, bunny, you have to use your words. I’m not good with this whole guessing stuff.” He probably would have been if he had been around more. However, that was neither here, nor there really in the scope of things. Just another regret to add to the growing pile. Then again, what else was new?

Her arms squeezed him harder, holding on for dear life.

His mind raced with possible theories. He glanced at his sigil a second later, dismissing it. He definitely hadn’t finished it, so that couldn’t be causing her any problems. And he was home, so he scratched that off, too. She had Cuddles beside her. She was in Gabe’s arms. She wasn’t hurt or seemed sick at all. What the hell was causing his sweet girl to cry?

“Maddie.” He gently pushed her back, so he could look at her eyes. Her eyes were a muted mint green with flecks of glowing gold. “You have to tell me what’s wrong, sweets, so I can fix it. Okay?” She cried even harder in response, hiccupping after she worked herself up completely in record speed somehow. He glanced at the door, wondering where the hell Sam was before he blew out a loud exhale and made up his mind. He could do this. He could figure it out. He turned back, finally noticing it.

Oh.

He saw the golden Grace in her eyes burn brighter than ever before. It all made sense then. He had seen this exact thing before with Cassie and Balthy. He chuckled and shook his head. Holy crap. He actually could—that was if it was what he was thinking it was, which he was fairly certain it was that. Though, it could be something totally different, but he was rather certain it wasn’t. Ugh. He needed to focus here. It was crucial that he did.

“Mads, does your back hurt at all? Like right here?” he asked, pointing where his wings were fused invisibly to his vessel’s back. When she nodded, sobbing, he pulled her in for a quick, loving hug. “Oh, sugarplum.” He kissed the top of her head and then brushed back her light brown hair tenderly, grinning widely. This was simple. This was something he could handle. “Has it been hurting all day?” She nodded again, sniffling. “No wonder you’ve been a brat all day, kiddo. Next time say something.”

“I didn’t wanna ruin it,” she sobbed, taking gasping, hiccupping breaths.

“Ruin it?” he repeated, tilting his head. “Queen Madelyn of the land of teddy bears and toys, you could never ruin anything.”

“Promise?” she sniffled, wiping her nose on his shoulder.

“Pinky-promise,” he firmly stated, holding up his pinky and smiling when she linked them together. “All right. Now, let’s get you feeling better, pipsqueak, before Dad comes in here thinking I did something stupid again.” He caught her subdued, tearful snicker and ruffled her hair. “Okay. Deep breaths just like I am.” He inhaled deeply, exaggerating it slightly, so she could hear him. “Good girl. Now, hold.” Her little cheeks were puffed out, reminding him of Scrat from _Ice Age._ “Exhale.” He blew out his breath slowly, laughing inwardly when she did. “Just like that. One more time now. Inhale.” They both drew in large breaths, inhaling deeper than before. “Hold and close your eyes this time.” She scrunched her face up with her cheeks puffed again. “Okay. Good girl. Just like that, Maddie.” He scooted back from her just a bit. “Now, I want you to think on that part that hurts and push the pain out.” This was going to go one of two ways, but he was ready for either honestly. He watched her little hands ball into fists at her sides and then heard her gasp of surprise when the pain likely completely vanished.

“Daddy!” she cried, her mouth hanging open before she whirled around to see what happened.

He ducked to keep from getting hit, chuckling as he stared at the beautiful wings that had sprouted free. “I know! I see them!” he cried, beaming with pride. Oh, her wings were so damn gorgeous. The perfect mix of silver and gold sprinkled in the pure ivory. He scooped her up, minding her wings of course, and quickly played the old human game of Airplane with her, hearing her giggles instantly. Her wings reacted to the feel of air moving across them for the first time, spreading out even further. He dipped her down low then, chuckling loudly when she let out a loud squeal.

“Daddy!”

“All right, Swan Princess,” he grinned after a few moments. “Time to put them away.”

“Nuh-uh!” she argued. “Not Swan Princess.”

“No? Really?” He playfully pouted. “I sort of like that one.”

“Daddy,” she huffed, rolling her eyes in pure sass. “I’m the Whiskey Fairy. Duh!”

“The . . . _what_?” He blinked before an awkward laugh burst free. “Sweets, there’s no such thing as the Whiskey Fairy. It’s just a thing I say to make sure Daddy doesn’t bitch about my drinking.” He caught her confusion and sighed. Yeah. He’d have been surprised if she did understand that. “Go like this and put your wings away please.” He rolled his shoulders, watching her do the same. He smiled when the beautiful feathery appendages shrank back inside, safely tucked away. “Good girl. Thank you.” He kissed her forehead and sighed happily. She had displayed her wings! “How you feeling now?”

“Good.”

“Yeah?” He nodded slowly, brushing back her hair. “Good. Whenever it starts to hurt like that again, tell either Daddy or me right away that you need to exercise your wings. Got it? It’s important.”

“Got it.”

“That’s my girl.” He carried her back to bed, helping her resettle again. When he felt the familiar presence through the long-established bond, his smile widened. “About time you got here.”

“Hey, blame your kid here,” Sam tossed back, his hand on Declan’s shoulder. “Someone decided we needed snacks for movie night. And then we couldn’t find one of them, so it took a bit.”

“Wait. Hold up. So, I was in the wrong earlier because I wanted them to watch an hour long movie before they went to bed, but you’re perfectly fine to let them now eat snacks after they brushed their teeth already? How does that work, Stretch Sam-strong?”

Sam glanced upwards and sighed heavily. “Yes, dear.”

“I’m sorry. What was that? I don’t think I heard—” A bag of fruit snacks instantly smacked him in the face. “Hey! Watch the face! It’s my best part.”

“I can think of other better parts,” quipped his husband, giving him a flirty look before his eyes flicked downwards briefly.

Gabe instantly grinned wider, practically glowing at the words. Oh, he couldn’t wait until later.

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” interrupted Maddie, clearly deciding it was her turn again.

“Yeah, all right, sweetheart,” Sam sighed, the moment over clearly. “What is it?”

“I have wings!”

Gabe caught Sam’s blink before hazel eyes widened in comprehension. He nodded back, unable to keep the grin from his face any longer. Yep. Sam heard right. Their baby girl displayed her wings.

“That’s wonderful, Maddie!”

“What color?” squealed her proud, ecstatic older brother. Declan was practically vibrating on his bed beside Sam, who in turn was currently mirroring his laptop onto the rarely used TV.

“White with sparkles,” she answered proudly.

“She means white with some gold and silver feathers as well,” Gabe clarified with a chuckle. Sparkles. She had grown out of the fairy phase thankfully a year ago. And he didn’t know of a single angel who had sparkles or glitter in their wings. Unless one counted Balthazar, he supposed, but that was only because of his brother’s talent of finding the most glittery, sparkly sex partners he could.

“Cool!”

“I know!” she shrieked, giggling again. “Daddy said I was the swan princess, but psh, I’m the Whiskey Fairy puh-lease.”

Wincing, Gabe hesitantly glanced at his husband, catching the look. Yeah. All right. They were little sponges. He’d be more careful next time. Though, he usually said that to be honest, so . . .

“I see,” Sam quietly remarked. “Well, Whiskey Fairy, stop stealing your dad’s alcohol.”

Gabe groaned inwardly, quickly covering his daughter’s mouth. Yep. He deserved that dig. He glanced at Sam and gave him an apologetic look.

Sam merely snorted, rolling his eyes. He clearly didn’t buy it in the slightest.

“So, movie time, yeah?” Gabe reluctantly lowered his hand from Maddie’s mouth a few moments later, hoping she got his hint and didn’t reveal what else he had said earlier.

“Everyone good? No one has to pee or anything?” Settling in against their respective father, the youngsters in the room all murmured how they were fine, which time would definitely tell the truth there. “Good.” Sam then pressed play, and the music started.


	4. I'll Be There

Later that night after the kids were passed out and Sam had finally dressed Gabe’s hand properly, the two sighed sitting up in their bed with backs against the headboard.

“I owe you a massage and sex.”

Sam chuckled, glancing over at him. “You owe me for more than that.” When Gabe’s face fell, he instantly leaned forward. “Hey, no. I didn’t mean because of—” He shook his head. “I was talking about how I got a two-hour movie down to being just forty-five minutes without the kids noticing.”

Gabe forced a quiet, awkward laugh, nodding. Oh. “I had wondered about that.” They had been a little higher pitched than he remembered. Sighing, he let his head thump back. “I should’ve been here.”

“You’re here now,” his husband pointed out, grabbing the uninjured hand. “That’s all that matters. That and this.” He then uncurled his other hand, revealing the familiar silver wedding band.

“My ring.” One less missing thing to locate later. “Where’d you find it?”

Sam smiled. “I’ve been wearing it on a chain since you left. I figured you’d want to wear it the second you came home, but with everything that’s going on . . . sort of forgot about it until now. Sorry.” He slowly slid the silver band carved with Enochian up Gabe’s ring finger, bringing the hand up to kiss Gabe’s knuckle a second later. “I’m glad you’re home. I was hoping we’d get you back for Christmas.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have no reason to be,” his husband argued quietly. “I mean, how many months did I keep hunting after we had Maddie? Five for the record in case you’re wondering. And _then_ I gave it up.”

“Exactly. You gave it up!” Gabriel hadn’t. He was still trying to have it both ways.

“Because I had a close call, but you supported my decision. You supported me.”

“Because I’m a stupid idiot, clearly.”

“No,” Sam said with a laugh. “Gabe, you’re helping Jack figure out how to rebuild Heaven. It’s not like you’re going on a drunken bender, stumbling home from another bar every night. It’s Heaven. I understand. I do. Plus, I mean, when I die, sort of would like the lights still to be running, you know?”

Frowning, he shrugged. “I suppose.” He still felt shitty leaving Sam with the kids all the time.

“Plus, this is no different from any other families, okay? It’s the age-old question everyone asks after having kids. I mean, sure, we could stay home and love on them 24/7, but reality eventually would set in. Granted, not as quick as for normal families. You are home when you can be, though. The kids and I get that. We know you’re not doing this because you can’t stand us. It’s to give us a better life.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“That’s what I’m figuring at least.” Sam shrugged. “I could end up being totally wrong I guess.”

“Yeah.” He frowned, closing his eyes. “I missed helping Declan with his wings the first time.”

“You were there for Maddie today, though,” Sam countered. “And Declan and I figured it out.” His face pinched at the memory. “With Cas’s help, sure, but we eventually did manage to figure it out.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Absolve me all of my sins.”

“Because they’re not sins.” Sam then turned his body more towards Gabe. “Do you know what I remember about that time the most? It’s not the panic I felt, or the helplessness as he was wailing how everything hurt. It’s not any of that, not really.”

“Then what?”

“I remember afterwards.” Sam grabbed both hands gently. “I remember you coming straight back here, seconds after I prayed, going straight to Declan. I remember you pulling our son into your arms, asking him if he was okay. Putting him first and asking him how he was feeling. And once he said he was okay, I remember you figuring out he was self-conscious of his wings for some reason. So you showed off yours, pointing out all the parts that were either damaged, scarred, or just didn’t fit with the rest. I remember you telling him how they weren’t flaws, but more so stories, reminders, pieces of you.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “He refused to put his wings away after that.”

“Exactly. He was so damn proud of them then. That’s what I remember.”

That was a damn good memory. “He kept sneaking out of bed to unfurl them in the library.”

“Yep. We almost had to put him in a full bind to get him to stop.”

He laughed quietly, nodding to himself. Yeah. They had considered it for a hot minute actually.

“Gabriel, you’re a good dad. Our kids love you.” Sam then gently cupped his face. “You are not Chuck, not by a longshot, and I’m not John. Got it? We broke that cycle. You’re here when you can be. And when you are, everything you do is to make sure our kids know how loved they are. How much you missed them while you were gone. They know that anytime they need you, all they have to do is pray. They know that. They don’t ever have to question if you love them. If you’d protect them. If you’d accept them no matter what. If you’d fight for them. They know the answer is always yes.”

“Sam—”

“I know that, too, okay? I know if I needed you down here, you’d tell your brother—hell, you’d tell all of Heaven for that matter—to go take a flying leap off the nearest bridge and fuck themselves on some damn pointy rock or something. I know that.”

“You’re far too good for me, Winchester.”

“Funny. I always thought you were too good for me,” Sam tossed back with a coy smile. “Come on. You and I have a much-needed date with a bathtub, booze, candy, and some porn.”

Gabe snorted. “A man after my own heart, you are.”

“Hey, I’m just satisfying one of our vows.”

“What?” He stared back, laughing in confusion. What the hell was his Jolly Green Sexy Giant talking about here exactly?

“The vow of sickness and in health,” Sam deadpanned, laughing loudly when Gabe shoved him back. “Hey! Hey!” he said through fits of laughter, “we do not shove family in this bunker.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me,” Gabe groaned. “I nearly vomited when Declan did that. I thought for sure you weren’t going to catch her in time.”

“You and me both,” admitted his husband with a heavy sigh before he swung his feet off the side of the bed, reaching back. “Come on. Let’s take advantage of Dean’s offer.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?”

“Oh, yeah, no, your husband has left the building. You’re stuck now with your hot side piece.”

“Seriously? Love my hot side piece,” Gabe snickered, slapping Sam’s ass as he stood beside him. “He’s a right kinky bastard sometimes and always so damn insatiable. And, fuck demanding, too.”

“You have no idea.” Sam then laughed quietly, leaning towards his ear. “Do you, my gorgeous, troublemaking husband, want to cause some mischief with me tonight?”

“Troublemaking? Who? Me?” He shook his head. “You, sir, have the wrong person. They call me Gabriel, as in the archangel Gabriel. I’m—”

“—a mischievous little shit who gets off on driving his husband up the wall. I know. Thanks.”

Gabe scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“All right. To satisfy my curiosity, what’d you have in mind, Moosey?”

“Moosey?” Sam repeated, raising a brow.

“Shut up,” he huffed, smirking fondly. “It was the only one I could come up with right then.”

His husband laughed, though. “You sure you want to know?”

“Yes. Before my husband comes back and I’m stuck with that miserable, do-good asshole.”

“All right.” He shrugged before he whispered in Gabe’s ear, “Streaking through the bunker.”

“Samuel Winchester . . . are you . . . are you propositioning me?” Streak? Through the bunker?

“Maybe.”

“Consider me scared, horny, and entirely one hundred percent onboard with this.” _Hells yes!_

“I thought you might be.” Sam chuckled deeply. “It’ll piss Dean off, so I’m not sure how long we’ll be kid-free exactly afterwards, but—”

“Psh. Only if he catches us,” Gabe scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. “And if he doesn’t see it, then he doesn’t know. Just like speeding, or, you know, taking his precious Baby out for a joyride.”

“What?”

“What?” Wait. What had he said again?

“Gabe, you better not have taken Baby for any joyrides.”

Oh, that stern voice did things, but he resisted. For now. “Who said it was me?”

“Gabriel . . .”

“Yes?”

“Did you take my brother’s car?”

“No.”

“But someone did? Someone _other_ than you?”

“Yes.”

“Who?” Sam’s eyes then widened the longer Gabe didn’t answer. “No?! _Seriously?!_ ”

“What?” Judging by his husband’s face, Sam knew. Which didn’t bode well. At all. Crap!

“Oh, you two better hope Dean never finds out.”

“Considering he hasn’t figured it out in the past five years, I think we’re safe.”

“He’d kill Cas. Regardless of how much he loves him, he’d kill him. You know that, right?”

“Hey, preaching to the choir, mi amour. I told Cassie it was a bad idea, but he needed pie.”

“So, why didn’t he, or _you_ for that matter, take any of the other vehicles in the garage?”

“Um, well . . .” That was a perfectly valid point. His moose was so damn smart. Too smart.

“Gabe.” Damn, that tone drove him mad sometimes. Of all the kinks, it was this one he’d die for.

“I may have insinuated he had permission.”

Sam blinked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What?”

“It was an honest mistake. Really. I told him that Dean was okay with it. Which Dean was.”

“With you two taking his car? Really?” _Oh_ , so that was where their kids got that look from.

“Well, I may not have elaborated enough, so he thought it was the car Dean was okay with when it was actually us leaving the bunker?” He shrugged. “And then the next minute he started Baby up, and I just, you know, got in and kept my mouth shut, so Cassie didn’t panic. Bro and Baby needed me.”

“In other words, neither of those two are aware of the actual truth.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” But what else was new really when it came to Dean and Cas?

“It’s a miracle someone hasn’t truly killed you for good yet.”

“Hey, I’m scrappy and resourceful.” And a little shit who didn’t know the meaning of quiet. Something the Empty learned at the end there according to Cas and Dean.

“You’re something, that’s for sure,” Sam drawled with an eye roll. “Anyway, shall we?”

“Am I down for pissing off my brother-in-law by streaking through the bunker like a dumbass while chasing after my incredibly sexy lumberjack husband? That the question?” At the nod, he chuckled. “Oh, Sam-heart. You had me at ‘Do you.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “I should have known.” A second later, they both stripped down, stepping out of their clothes with wide, shit-eating grins. When Gabe stepped closer, his husband gave him a firm, hard look. “No. Bath first, then porn.” There was that firm, stern voice again . . .

“But it’s my favorite kind,” he mock-whined, secretly wanting to hear that tone one more time.

“Don’t care. Them’s the rules, bud.”

Metaphorical water doused him instantly. “Bud? Bud?” Gabe repeated, his hands going to his hips. “Seriously? _Bud_? Wow. Now I know why Cassie’s always so damn frustrated. Bud. Okay, _Sam-o_.”

Chuckling, his husband smiled widely, lightly pushing him. “And we wonder why our kids are the way they are.” Huh. So, that was where the kids picking the shoving trait up from.

“Hey, bucko, you cannot blame me. I’m only a five percent parent in this relationship clearly.”

“Gabe.”

The sharp tone instantly made him sigh. There Sam was, yet again, trying to remove his guilt.

“Yeah, no, you’re right.” He sighed heavily. “I’m just . . . it was three and a half months.”

“I know.”

“How many of those were nights with Maddie crying and screaming her head off because of another nightmare . . . or worse, one of her damn night terrors? How many moments did I miss with Declan drawing those cute little weird things of his that he’s so damn proud of?”

“None.” He blinked, which Sam immediately caught. “I mean, obviously you missed her breakdowns, but I have every one of Declan’s drawings saved in a binder for you. I’ll show them to you tomorrow. However, tonight is about us. Remember?” He placed a hand atop of Gabe’s bare chest. “So,” he leaned in, practically purring, “last one to the tub bottoms tonight!” He sprinted off, laughing.

“Damn it, Moose!” Gabe yelled back, chasing after him and grinning widely. “Get back here!”


	5. To Build A Home

True to his word, Gabe watched the kids the following day. Though, more than a few times, he had to chase Sam away as his sweet, loving husband kept checking on them every few minutes, claiming he had ‘forgotten’ something. At first, it annoyed Gabe honestly, assuming Sam didn’t trust him alone with the kids now. But after the fifth time,’ Gabe realized what it really was. His husband didn’t know what to do with himself without the kids around anymore. Obviously, another transgression to add to the increasingly growing list. Luckily, Sam was now out on an all but forced run Cas demanded.

“Daddy!” whined Maddie, stomping her foot.

“I know. I know, pumpkin. Daddy just has to find something.” Amber eyes darted rapidly around the room. He knew it had to be somewhere. He literally just had it when Sam handed it to him earlier. He searched the usual places, hearing his daughter’s annoyance growing rapidly behind him. She was inching ever closer to a meltdown, and it was going to be a doozy he was fairly certain. “I know, kiddo. But if I don’t have it, your dad’s going to fucking shish kabob me,” he muttered under his breath.

“What’s ‘shish awob?” came a soft voice beside him on his right.

“What’s ‘fuckin’?” another little voice spoke from his left.

He paused, stopping in his frantic search for the damn cellphone. Licking his lip slowly, he drew in a slow breath. _Well, shit._ He then turned back around, quickly bending down to their levels. Both kids were staring at him curiously.

“Um, okay, so those are Daddy-only words. We’re, um, we’re not ever going to repeat them. Ever. Or bad things, _terrible_ things are going to happen to me.” Terrible, terrible things like Sam deciding no more sex or worse were just a few coming to him right then. Neither of the kids really were paying attention to him, though, having already moved onto the next shiny thing as kids did. Sighing, he hoped for the best. It was all he could do, so he resumed his search.

“Can we go now?” Declan groaned loudly a few minutes later when Gabe still hadn’t found it.

“In a second, guys. I need to find—” Gabe then shook his head, glancing at them. “Do you know where I put Daddy’s phone, or where he put mine for that matter?”

“Why?”

“Because I need it.”

“Why?”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head and biting his cheek to hold back the usual smartass remark. They were at that stage. That dreaded stage he really wasn’t ready for at all. Karma sucked. It really did.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, fairest princess of all the universes?” He glanced down when she tugged on his jeans insistently. “What’s up?”

“Since you don’t got it, does that mean we don’t has to go?”

He forced a thoughtful laugh. “No, it just means your dad has to ask Uncle Dean instead.”

“Why?”

“Because your dad will worry otherwise.”

“Why?”

“Because your dad loves us. A lot. And the phone is for in case of emergencies.” He then instantly continued on when he saw her mouth open. “Sweets?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you want to leave and be with me and your brother today?” He watched her pale green eyes drop to the floor almost within seconds. Yep, that was what he thought. He caught his son’s confused look and smiled faintly. “Maddie, I promise. You’re really going to like what we’re going to do today.” He was sure both kids would be bragging about it for days afterwards in fact. Though, he did feel slightly guilty for not bothering to ask if Alec could join. But neither Dean nor Cas suggested it when he discussed the idea with them earlier, so Gabe wasn’t going to push it. He was still figuring out his place again after being gone for so long this time. He wasn’t going to upset Dean and Cas as well.

“Nuh-uh,” she argued, shaking her head. “Daddy’s not gonna be with us.”

“No. You’re right. He’s not.” He kept his voice even and steady, even though his heart was hurting seeing the tears already starting to streak down her rosy chubby cheeks. “Today you guys are going to be with me instead, but I promise, sweet pea, you’re really going to love this.”

“No.”

“Sweetheart—”

She stomped her foot down harder, glaring daggers. “No! I don’t wanna!”

“Maddie!” Declan yelled, grabbing her arms then. “Stop!”

“But—” she cried back, looking utterly devastated by her brother yelling at her.

“No!” replied the wavy, chestnut-haired boy, glaring. “Bad sister!” His whiskey-colored eyes, darker than Gabe’s, hardened on her. “You listen. Got it?”

Gabe bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Oh, his sweet boy. Already sounding like a mini-Sam, and yet he knew Declan was his little mini-me usually, his constant shadow. His son just was keeping his distance since Gabe had returned home for some reason. Probably to protect himself, the father of two realized glumly a moment later.

“Fine,” she huffed, her cheeks puffing out angrily. “But I’m not happy!”

Declan’s face scrunched up more.

It took Gabe a second before he realized his son was imitating bitchface # 25. Now, that was all sorts of freaking adorable. Maddie may have favored Sam, but wow was Dec doing a damn good impression of Sam today.

“Maddie?”

She reluctantly glanced at Gabe.

“After we’re done, we’ll go to the store and get Daddy all his favorites, all right?” He learned this trick from his dad. Not that Chuck was necessarily a prime example of a good dad, but it worked.

Nodding slowly, she conceded before she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. A moment later, he lifted her up, settling her against his side gently as he carried her. At her head resting against his shoulder soon after, he smiled somberly, rubbing her back gently.

So, with Maddie in his arms and Declan at his side, they headed out of the room and down the corridor together. He still needed to get a phone, so they’d have to stop in the kitchen, but everyone seemed more or less ready for their outing. The kids all swore they were good in terms of bathroom necessities, but he had heard that before. As they approached the kitchen, he heard the soft laughter echoing, the happiness radiating out. The small family walked in a moment later.

Dean was baking something with Alec ‘supervising’ from the counter. Father and son were covered from head-to-toe in flour, looking ridiculous. They were both grinning widely, though.

“Hey,” cheerfully called out his brother-in-law soon after, meeting his eyes with pure warmth reflected back. “You guys headed out then?”

“Attempting it at least,” Gabe replied with a soft laugh. “Don’t suppose I could borrow a phone, though. Seemed to have misplaced mine and then Sam’s somehow.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, no problem.” He then turned to Alec, who was glancing curiously between the fathers. “Be good.”

Alec nodded sharply, grinning before he glanced at Gabe after Dean left. His deep blues focused like lasers on him. “Daddy said you’re gonna stay with us for a bit.”

“That’s the plan,” Gabe agreed. Instinctively, he walked closer to his nephew, setting Maddie down by his side while glancing at the cookies his brother-in-law had just pulled out of the oven. M&M cookies judging by the looks of it, it seemed. He loved that kind, and if Dean made it—even better. He reached for one, pausing when his nephew instantly smacked his hand.

“No,” Alec scolded. “Daddy said we’re s’posed to let it cool first.”

“Well, your old man’s not around, sport,” Gabe drawled, reaching again and chuckling when Alec smacked his hand again. “You sure you want to play this game?”

“Daddy said—”

“Again, hate to break it to you, but your dad’s not around.”

“So?”

“So . . .” Gabe quickly swiped one of the cookies then, watching Alec’s mouth drop in utter horror. “Too slow, my man, but better luck next time!”

Alec glared in response, crossing his arms and wearing a Cas-like glare. “You’re naughty!”

Gabe snorted and then shrugged flippantly, biting into the gooey cookie. Damn these were good.

“Daddy!” his nephew yelled out, clearly going to rat Gabe out in a heartbeat.

The former Trickster rolled his eyes, though, grabbing four more cookies and handing them out to Alec, Maddie, and Declan. His kids took them without pause, but his nephew outright refused.

“No! Daddy said—”

“Gabe, you better not be being a dick to my kid,” Dean sighed, walking back in the room.

“Actually, I’m not. I’m trying to give him one of the cookies you guys made.”

“But I didn’t!” Alec argued like the good brat he was. “Cause you said it’s too hots, so I waited.”

Dean forced a little chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s my boy.” He then grabbed the two cookies Gabe still was holding out and handed one over to Alec. “Go ahead. You can have it now.”

With light brown hair spiked up exactly like Dean’s, the sweet, little blue-eyed boy hesitantly grabbed it from his dad, glancing down bashfully. “They’s very naughty.”

“That they are,” Dean agreed, biting into his cookie Gabe had given him. He then held out an older iPhone to Gabe. “Fully charged, and it’s one of the better camera phone ones we have. Plus, I may have managed to add Sammy’s back-up number in case you need him for something too.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t deserve Dean’s kindness. He really didn’t.

His brother-in-law jerked his head in acknowledgement before he caught Alec’s look. “What?”

“He gets a cookie and a phone for being bad?” his son cried out in utter horror.

Both fathers laughed quietly. “No, Alec. He’s getting the phone because he’s going to spend the day with your cousins. And he’s being safe and smart and considerate of others.” Dean then added under his breath with a wide smirk, “For once at least.” He elbowed Gabe in the side with a chuckle.

“Hardy-har, but isn’t that like calling the pot black there, dear kettle?” Gabe tossed back.

His brother-in-law rolled dazzling green eyes hard to the heavens.

“What are they doing, Daddy?” When Dean didn’t answer, Alec’s stunning blues darted to Declan. “Dec? Whatcha doin’?”

“I dunno,” replied the oldest boy. “Something we’ll like s’posedly.”

“You usin’ the Charger?” Dean questioned as the kids talked quietly amongst themselves. His brother-in-law could never not make a dig at Sam’s car. But if a ‘67 Impala could be considered a family car, so could a 2018 Charger. It wasn’t as if any of the men would be caught dead in a minivan after all.

“Since it likely still has the car seats, yeah.” He caught the quiet laugh. “What?”

“Nothing, man.” Dean laughed a little harder, though. “I’m just—well, imagining you wrestling with car seats, and it’s freakin’ hilarious.”

Gabe glared back. A clueless angel joke? Really? Wow. Or was this another height joke?

“You realize your brother, Mister Anal Retentive and Worrywart Extraordinaire himself, would have divorced me and sought full custody of the kids if I couldn’t manage to figure out car seats, right?” Hell, Gabe had even read as many of those dry as fuck parenting books he could get his hands on, nearly buying Amazon’s entire stock. Not to mention, while Sam slept peacefully beside him without a care in the freaking world, Gabe researched on the Internet all the cool baby shit. You know, like what to do if an infant starts to choke on its own spit, what to do in the case of an epileptic event, how to handle colic, or the million other things that could go wrong with a fragile, tiny newborn who depended solely on you not to fuck things up and kill them somehow. Yeah, so he was still working through those fears.

Once Sam’s maddening hazel eyes were on him, though, Gabe was an absolute goner, bending over backwards to do anything for his moose. Which was how he was a master at all the usual parenting stuff, or close to it at least. And the rest he didn’t know, he faked, relying on his eons of looking after fledglings for so long—namely Cas and Balthy—but mostly Cas. He so desperately wanted to prove how he could be responsible, how he wasn’t going to screw this up. Not that Sam ever thought that. Not even once. But the stupid self-loathing voice inside Gabe said otherwise.

“We should let them get on with their day, okay, my little man?” Dean quietly interjected.

Those words instantly yanked Gabe from his fall, catching his brother-in-law’s questioning look. He forced a smile back then and concentrated on his kids instead. They still needed him to survive. They just weren’t as tiny as they used to be any more, so it wasn’t as noticeable as it had been. He needed to stay on the path before him and refocus, not think about that nonsense. Better to lock it up again.

“Okay.” Alec exhaled exaggeratedly. “Have fun,” he said to Declan and Maddie.

“You too,” called back the grinning brats at Gabe’s sides.

Gently, the depowered archangel placed a hand on his kids’ shoulders, steering them towards the door. Yes. They needed to get on with their day. That sounded like a damn good idea. He paused when Dean grabbed his arm, though, green eyes narrowing on him skeptically.

“You okay?”

“Never better, Dean-o,” he drawled back with a shrug. Faking and distracting, he was good at.

“If you’re sure . . .”

“Positive,” he replied, forcing his smile more. “We’ll be back sometime this afternoon.”

“All right.” Dean then knelt in front of his niece and nephew, giving them each a quick hug. “Have lots of fun with your dad today, guys. And when you get back, I want to hear all about it.”

Maddie and Declan seemed even more confused, glancing at their father suspiciously.

Gabe said nothing, though. He didn’t even attempt to correct his brother-in-law and explain when they’d get back the kids would likely be passed out. He just didn’t see a need honestly. They quietly walked out a moment later, heading towards the garage.

He grabbed the keys to the Charger from the pegboard as they passed it several minutes later, chuckling when Declan rushed to his side of the car.

“Yeah, yeah, kiddo. I’m coming. Just let me get your sister buckled in first.”

His son smiled cheerfully, though.

“Kay,” Declan replied, tapping against the side of the car lightly with what sounded vaguely similar to a Zeppelin song possibly. Little tyke clearly spent too much time with Uncle Dean.

Bending down, Gabe gently set his little girl down into her car seat, fastening her in before she pulled the infamous Houdini trick on him again. He still had nightmares (if he slept regularly that was) of her last vanishing act. When he caught her frown, he pressed a brief kiss to her forehead.

“I know, sweets. It won’t be long, though.” He then glanced across the backseat to Declan who had managed somehow to open the door and crawl up into his, still happily tapping out the song in his little head. Nephilim, he swore. Checking Maddie’s harness one last time for peace of mind, Gabe then pulled back and slammed the door shut, heading over to his son’s side of the car then.

“All ready!” Declan happily declared.

“So, I see.” He pulled down the harness, buckling his son in with a laugh. He was close enough now to recognize the song Declan was tapping out loudly. “Uncle Dean teach you that song?”

“What?”

“The song you’re hearing in your head,” Gabe explained. “You keep tapping it out loud.”

“Oh.” His son giggled, shaking his head. “No. Daddy says you like this song.”

“Well, your daddy is a smart man,” he laughed, brushing Declan’s chestnut, wavy hair back lovingly. He wished Sam was with them, feeling guilty about him missing it. However, he knew how it would have gone with his husband seeing the other angel Gabe invited. Yeah, photos would have to do.

“He says you can play it.”

“Yeah, but don’t tell Uncle Dean that, all right?”

“Why?”

“Because your uncle—well, he’s what people call a superfan, so if he knew I knew how to play it, it wouldn’t be pretty.” More like Gabe didn’t want to play twenty questions of how the hell he knew how to play “Stairway to Heaven” and reveal he had worked as a backstage sound tech at a few rock and country concerts for about five or so years back in the late 80s. Sam knew about it of course because his husband was a naturally curious person. At least, Sam knew some of that history. Gabe still had a few secrets he kept close to his sleeve that Sam understood were there. Amber eyes darted over to Maddie, checking once again that her harness was fastened correctly, before Gabe turned his attention back on his son. Kids buckled in, check. “All right, my brats. Let’s go have some fun.”

Slamming the door shut a moment later, he calmly walked over to the driver’s side and slid in. He hadn’t driven in at least a few months now, but he couldn’t have risked meeting in the bunker.

Sending a quick update prayer as he turned the key, he chuckled when the black Charger roared to life. He loved that sound. Grinning, he tapped the wheel. Man, humans really were amazing at times.

* * *

Once he had found the perfect abandoned spot without a soul around for miles, he carefully guided the car off into the shoulder before he parked it, killing the engine.

“Are we lost?”

He laughed quietly, though, unbuckling his seatbelt before turning around to his kids. “Nope. We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.” _But thanks for having faith in me, kiddos,_ he snorted.

“Where?” They clearly were super distrustful currently for some reason. “Here?”

“Yep.” His grin widened as their noses scrunched up more. “Just trust me, guys. Please?”

“But it’s empty.”

“Exactly. Which is why this is the perfect place to spend the day together.” When he caught their confusion increasing, he opened the car door and quickly went to release Declan from his harness.

“Daddy, are you feelin’ okay?”

“Never better, kiddo,” he replied, gently pulling his son from his car seat and setting him back on his feet outside the car. He waited until Declan moved back from the door and slammed it shut, then walking over to Maddie’s side. “Here we go, sweets,” he drawled, undoing her harness and pulling her up out of her seat. “Safe and sound.” He set her down on her feet, grabbing her hand and Declan’s before they crossed into the vacant farm field.

Both his kids stared at him, though, like he lost his mind.

“Trust me. Okay? That’s all I’m asking for here. You’ll love it.”

They both huffed, pulling their hands back from him before crossing their arms.

At the sound of wingbeats a moment later, Gabe glanced behind them, grinning when he saw the familiar angel approaching.

“Took you long enough,” he teased his blond brother. “What? You get stuck in traffic up there?”

“Hilarious,” drawled back the British-sounding angel. “You know what Naomi is like. I had to fill out all of the necessary paperwork— _how dull_ —in order to even think about coming down here for you. After all, not all of us can go wherever we damn well please anymore.” His cool steel gray eyes instantly darted towards the curious Nephilim, who were eyeing him in utter puzzlement.

“Guys, you remember Uncle Balthy, right?” Gabe raised a challenging brow when his brother glanced at him with a disapproving frown. The younger angel was just going to have to get used to being called Uncle Balthy, and that was that.

“Hi,” the kids quietly murmured, quickly tucking against Gabe’s sides. It had been several years since they had seen their uncle, so it was only natural they’d be a little hesitant, he supposed.

“Hello.” Balthazar then sighed heavily, gradually kneeling to their level. “Your father informs me that someone here displayed her wings for the first time last night. Might I see them?”

Maddie instantly latched hard onto Gabe’s side, gasping quietly.

“It’s okay, Mads,” Gabe murmured gently. “You can show him.”

“But—”

“How about I show mine first?” Balthazar suggested gently, plastering a disarming smile for her.

“But we’re not allowed,” she whispered, biting her lip with wide eyes.

Sighing inwardly, Gabe quickly dropped to a knee in front of his daughter, flashing a warm, loving smile to her. “There are no humans here for miles. That’s why I was driving around like I was lost earlier. I was making sure. It’s just us out here, sugar cookie. So, we’re allowed. Trust me. I’m not breaking any rules with you guys.” At least as long as his brother had filed the correct paperwork.

“But—”

“Your father tells the truth,” chimed in quietly an even voice radiating silent strength from a few feet away. “He’s been granted special permission for this, Madelyn.”

Amber eyes widened, noticing Balthazar’s rigid stance before his little brother quickly stepped in front of them protectively.

“I’m not here for a fight, brothers,” stated their older brother approaching.

“Oh, really?” Balthazar tossed back with a harsh scoff.

“Daddy, who is he?” Declan practically stage whispered.

“Uncle Michael,” Gabe answered quietly. What on Earth was _he_ doing here?

“The dick?” both his kids simultaneously cried.

Gabe groaned inwardly. _Damn it, kids._

“Oh, my,” Balthazar lightly hummed with a delighted chuckle, turning back in absolute glee. “You’re both officially my new favorite niece and nephew.”

Gabe caught their wide, prideful grins and snorted. Yep, didn’t take much to make them happy. He then glanced at his older brother, who was giving his children an obvious disappointed look.

“What do you want, Mikey?” he sighed tiredly.

His older brother’s frown deepened before he inclined his head slowly. “Balthazar’s paperwork for this . . . _excursion_ crossed my desk earlier.”

“Yes, and Jack himself approved of it,” argued Balthazar, rearing himself up for a fight clearly.

“I’m aware,” Michael replied with a curt bob in acknowledgement. “However, I wished to—that is—I—well, I—” He sighed heavily, his eyes falling to the dry brown grass. He then blinked, his eyes glowing with Grace before another voice spoke in a much different pitch. Ah. The human now was in control. “Hey, so, uh, hi.” He gave a little awkward wave. “He’s not really sure how to say it, so, you know, here I am.” He sighed heavily before he stepped forward, quickly raising hands defensively and revealing a vial of Grace. “I was just going to hand Gabriel his Grace. That’s all. Still not a threat!”

“My Grace?” Gabe tilted his head slightly. “Jack used all of it.” There should’ve been none left, having used it all for the new batch of angels.

“Jack’s also the new God, so, you know, typical rules don’t really apply to him,” quipped Adam. “Anyway, Michael didn’t want you to miss this, recalling how you used to enjoy your flights with Castiel and Balthazar. So, after he saw the request on his desk, he asked Jack for any of your unused Grace.” He motioned again to the vial with the ethereal bluish-white glowing Grace inside. “He recognizes he screwed up, and I think this is his way of trying to make up for it in his own way. He just doesn’t know how to spit that out and say it, so, you get me instead.”

“Could I talk to him?” Gabe quietly asked, his hand mindlessly stroking his daughter’s light brown hair as she continued death gripping his leg. He caught the slight nod and waited.

“Gabriel?” his older brother murmured hesitantly a moment later after regaining control.

“This is Maddie,” stated the youngest archangel quietly, motioning towards his daughter. “We only call her Madelyn when she’s being particularly bratty or wrong.” His big brother nodded in understanding, eyes flicking down to her briefly. “And this is Declan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Michael stated coolly. “Your father speaks very frequently about you and how much he misses you.”

Neither of the kids said a word, merely hugged their father tighter.

His brother glanced down sullenly in response.

Gabe sighed inwardly, grabbing the vial and pulling out the cork from the top. He tipped it back slightly, inhaling the pitiful amount of his Grace and feeling familiar warmth quickly spread throughout his body. His eyes glowed bright for half a second as his wings expanded and then returned to their hiding spot again. It’d be just enough to pull his wings out and return them at will twice.

“Thank you for this,” he said to his older brother, catching the surprised thin smile.

“Of course.” Michael then redirected his attention onto his niece. “Maddie,” he quietly stated, forcing what he must have thought was a neutral smile. “Did you know your father is the fastest flier among all of us?”

Her pale green eyes with flecks of gold darted up as she gasped.

“It’s true,” Balthazar confirmed quietly.

“I would imagine you and your brother could give him a good run for his money, though,” Michael quietly remarked with a subdued chuckle.

“Are you throwing down a challenge to my kids now, Mikey?”

His older brother blinked glancing at him, pausing for a moment before he shrugged. “Perhaps.”

Gabe forced a laugh, glancing away as he let his heart speak for once. He was allowing himself to forget their turbulent past for now. He wanted a large family. “Do you have to go back right away?”

“Well, I—not right away, no,” Michael stammered out, clearly at a loss for words. “Why?”

“Since you basically just gave my kids the idea of outflying me, I thought you could help keep them from darting off to the point where Balthy and I can’t catch them.”

“Ah.” Michael’s eyes darted back to the kids. “Only if they’re comfortable with it.”

“What do you guys say? You okay with Uncle Mikey here joining us?”

“Is he gonna be a dick?” Declan simply asked with a raised brow and crossed arms.

Balthazar and Gabe both muffled their twined snorts. There was the great Winchester in them rearing its head again.

“Not if I can help it, no,” answered Michael honestly, ignoring the disrespect for once. “I would like very much to—that is—you are my family. And family sticks together, or so I’m told.”

Maddie blew out a large exhale before she released her dad.

“Are you gonna take Daddy away again?” she asked, clearly over everything.

“I—I don’t follow.” Michael glanced at Gabe with a deer in headlights look, clearly unsure what the right answer here was exactly.

“Daddy was gone for tree almost four whole months,” she declared, her little voice growing colder by the second.

“Mads, quit grilling your uncle,” Gabe lightly remarked, stroking her hair lovingly. He caught her exaggerated sigh in response, but she seemed to listen for the moment. “We might want to put up a barrier or something in case of satellites or drones or whatever other fancy toys the humans might have.”

“Of course,” stated his older brother, snapping his finger a second later.

Gabe felt the pull almost instantly, recognizing the specific barrier his brother put up. It was a strong one, so it should do the trick.

“All right. Let’s get flying. Shall we?” He caught Maddie’s instant scowl and sighed inwardly. He should have known. “What’s up, buttercup?” When Declan’s slender wings appeared and opened out wide a second later, the light reflecting beautifully off the shimmering champagne feathers, he glanced briefly over there and gave his son a quick, proud dad smile. He caught his son’s cheerful, bright responding grin. A second later, Gabe returned his full attention on the grumpy brat in front of him.

“I don’t know how,” she huffed, kicking her feet frustratedly.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know how to,” she admitted, another huff escaping her lips.

“I know. Neither does your brother,” he stated, giving her a gentle smile. “That’s why we’re going to teach you both today.” He caught Maddie’s eyes darting to Declan instantly in utter shock.

His son’s eyes dropped to his shoes as he sighed quietly. “I didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“You waited?!” she shrieked. Not waiting for Declan’s answer, she launched herself at him, knocking her older brother down into the dirt in the process.

“Reminds you of someone, doesn’t she?” Mikey remarked with a light chuckle.

“Maybe,” Gabe replied with a flippant shrug, “except I never could tackle like that.”

“Well, clearly, that’s the obvious Winchester influence in her,” Balthazar drawled as the two archangels and angel watched the two Nephilim hug with Maddie squealing how happy she was.

“All right, you two. That’s enough.” The feathery father instantly plucked his wayward children up easily out of the dirt, feeling his strength quickly returning. He set them both down and sighed, bending to their level. “Maddie, do you remember where you felt that ache before?” She nodded back. “Good. I want you to close your eyes, concentrate on that area again, and then roll your shoulders.”

“But you don’t do that,” she pointed out, her lower lip protruding out.

“No. I don’t. That’s right, but I’ve been doing this for a very long time, sport. You don’t have the muscle memory yet. You’ll get it, though. And then it’ll be just like riding a bike.”

“I dunno how to do that either.”

“I know. You will, though. Daddy gets you for the human stuff, kiddo, and I get you for the angel.” He then tapped her nose with a smirk. “So, come on, sweets. Close your eyes and do as I say. Then we can go up there.” He watched her face fall and brushed back her long hair. “What now?”

“What if I fall?”

“Then I’m going to fly twice as fast as I’ve ever flown before, and I’m going to catch you every time, my beautiful baby girl.”

“What if you can’t?”

“You doubt me?” he gasped dramatically, placing a hand against his chest as his mouth opened. He laughed quietly when she giggled in reply. “Maddie, I promise. I won’t let you fall.”

“But what if Dec starts to and you’re busy with me and—”

He gently cupped her face, meeting her eyes. “Then I’ll tuck you into my chest and grab your brother, too. And if I can’t reach him, your uncles will. You and Declan will be fine. Trust me. I taught Balthazar and Cas how to fly. And Uncle Cas—” he murmured, acting like he was spilling some sort of juicy gossip “—little secret between you and me—he was a terrible flier at first.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. He’d get distracted by the littlest things. Bees. Butterflies. Humans. But know what?”

“What?”

“He pulled Uncle Dean out of Hell, flew him through hordes of nasty demons, and brought him back topside. Thus, raising the Righteous Man from Hell. So, he got really, really good at flying.”

“But he’s like Daddy now.”

“He is,” Gabe conceded. “Because Uncle Cas chose humanity, mostly Uncle Dean. He decided he had done enough as an angel. That he wanted to taste the burgers your uncle makes sometimes. And the PB&J too. And now your uncles are very happy together with Alec.”

“What if we want to choose that?”

Balthazar cleared his throat harshly instantly.

They wanted to be human? _Oh._

“It’s a little different with you two honestly,” Gabe replied, wondering how they had wound up having this conversation of all things. They were supposed to be flying, having fun, not talking.

“Why?”

“Because angels—archangels in my case—well, they’re not really supposed to have kids like you and Declan. Your grandfather—my father—frowned upon that. So, your grandfather made it so you two have to rely on both your Grace and souls to live.”

“Why?”

Of all the words in the English language, Gabe wished he could remove that one the most.

“Because he was a dick,” Mikey remarked flatly when no one else had spoken.

“That,” Gabe stated, pointing at his older brother. Who would have thought Mikey’d say it?

“We sure do have a lot of dicks in our family.”

The three angels laughed amusedly, nodding.

“That we do. However, a lot of them are no longer with us. So the dicks still in our family are mostly tolerable now.”

“Speak for yourself, brother,” Balthazar drawled quietly. “Naomi is still one.”

“I thought only boys could be dicks,” Declan asked puzzled.

“Nuh-uh,” Maddie argued. “Girls can be, too. Uncle Dean said so!”

Gabe’s head tilted for a moment before he dismissed it. He wasn’t even going to go there.

“All right, sweet pea. Close your eyes. Concentrate. Then roll your shoulders just like before.” He watched his daughter sigh heavily before she reluctantly did as he asked. Her little face scrunched up a moment later as she concentrated, causing him nearly to laugh at how adorable she looked. He still swore it was her pooping face, but if it worked . . . The beautiful wings then appeared, unfurling and spreading out far and wide from her back. “That’s my girl.”

“Oh, my, aren’t those beautiful,” Balthazar drawled beside him. “Color me impressed.”

Gabe glanced at his bratty brother instantly and raised a brow.

“What?” His brother shrugged. “Your daughter’s wings are gorgeous.”

Maddie beamed at the praise before she glanced at Declan.

“See? White with sparkles!”

“Those aren’t sparkles,” Declan argued. “These are sparkles!” His slender wings then ruffled slightly before a shimmer of Grace quickly spread out from where the wings protruded from his back out to his wing tips. He had certainly gotten them to sparkle somehow. Like little diamonds on a ring.

“Whoa.”

“What she said,” Balthazar whistled, stunned.

“Uncle Cas showed me how!” declared Declan, grinning from ear to ear.

Of course Cassie did.

“Well, did Uncle Cas tell you who taught him to do that?” Gabe asked. He caught his son’s look of confusion and smiled in response. “I did, bucko.”

“What?” Balthazar gasped beside him. “I always knew you liked Cassie better,” he groused.

However, Gabe noticed the slight twitch of his brother’s lips as Balthazar tried to hold back his smirk. He glanced back at his son and waited.

“You taught him?”

“Yep,” he said with a slow nod. “He was a little like you were at first with his wings actually. They weren’t the usual coloring one would see. They were a deep blue. Darker than Uncle Mikey’s here. So, I showed him how to make them twinkle like the night sky.”

“Cool.”

“It was.” He then glanced at Michael and sighed inwardly. “I learned how to do that from my brothers, so I passed it along.”

“To Cassie for the record, not me,” Balthazar pointed out, exaggerating his sigh loudly.

Gabe rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “You didn’t need the reassurance about your wings like we did. You were always quite eager to strut around with them out, proudly showing them off.”

“Yes, in fact, I seem to recall when you did learn about Castiel’s ability to make them twinkle,” Michael started to reveal, “you, in fact, decided to do the same by rolling around in horrid pixie dust.”

When Gabe caught the wolfish grin on his younger brother, he closed his eyes and sighed. Oh, here Balthy would go. Some things never changed.

“Technically,” Balthazar replied, “I rolled around with a pixie and showed her—well, _you know_. Her dust just happened to come from the,” he paused with a waggle of his brows “ _event_.”

Michael grimaced as Gabe snorted.

“Degenerate,” huffed Michael under his breath.

“Dullard,” retorted Balthazar with a bored smile.

“Daddy?”

Gabe glanced over at his daughter, smiling. “Yeah, I know. I think your uncles are being idiots, too.” He then rolled his shoulders to lead by example, bringing his strong golden wings forward. Both his kids’ mouths dropped at once, staring at his six wings in utter disbelief. “What do you think, guys?”

“Whoa!”

“Personally, I’ve seen bigger,” Balthazar drawled, his steely grays twinkling with silent laughter.

“I pray you never have children, brother,” Michael sighed, displaying his next. The six silvery-blue wings swiftly spread out above them, stretching languidly towards the sky.

“As do I,” quipped their younger brother, displaying his wings finally.

Both Gabriel and Michael’s mouths dropped.

“What did you do?!” Michael sputtered, looking absolutely flabbergasted.

“Like them?” Balthazar purred, ruffling his colorful feathers smugly.

“Whoa!” Declan and Maddie both whispered with wide, amazed eyes.

“It was a bitch to sit still for that long, honestly, but I think they suit me better now.” The younger angel chuckled quietly. “They’re colorful like myself.”

“They’re tie-died!” Michael huffed indignantly.

“Precisely.” Balthy’s eyes darted to Gabriel. “Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Where would Gabe even start honestly? They were . . . wow.

“You will change them back before you return to home,” Michael sternly declared then as Gabe continued to try to think of something, anything, to say.

“Or else?”

“Or else you won’t be allowed back, brother. Not with those . . . those monstrosities.”

“How lovely,” chuckled Balthazar, clearly getting the reaction he had been hoping for here.

“How’d you get them that color?” Gabe finally managed to ask. He could tell it wasn’t from Grace. They seemed to have some imperfections in spots, which made it that much more beautiful in his opinion honestly.

“I found a rather interesting event humans partake in sometimes. A color run, I believe they call it. You see, these fascinating apes willingly run through colored powder to ruin their clothing for fun. They use all sorts of colors. Every single one imaginable in fact.”

Gabe frowned at the ape comment but disregarded it. “And, so, you ran with your wings out?”

“Hardly. I do have some sense,” Balthazar sighed, rolling his eyes. “I merely chatted with an event coordinator and learned how they all did it. Then I found the necessary items, did the thing, spoke with my nephew when he showed up unexpectedly, and voilà.”

“Wait.” Michael’s eyes widened. “Jack is aware you did this?”

“Yes.” He grinned widely. “And he snapped his fingers to make it permanent.”

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Michael growled, whirling towards Gabriel.

“Well, like humans say, his body, his choice. If he’s okay with it, then I don’t see any harm.”

“Can I get rainedbow wings, Daddy?”

Gabe’s eyes darted to his daughter and smiled lovingly at her. “No, cupcake.”

“But—”

“Maybe when you’re older. Right now, though, you’re keeping your sparkly ones.”

Her puppy dog eyes she inherited from her moose of a father then made a roaring comeback.

He stared into those beautiful pale green of hers, feeling his resolve whittle down faster than a lightning striking. Not the puppy dog eyes. Anything but the dreaded damn puppy dog eyes! She then added a pouty lip. Crap!

“But yours are cool,” Declan interrupted, breaking the spell and causing her to glance at him. “Why would you want them like his? Yours are white and pretty. Like a fairy’s. You love fairies!”

She shrugged her shoulders and sighed exaggeratedly. “They’re colorful, though.”

“So are yours!” He then pointed to a few of her silver and golden feathers. “You have three colors. I just have the one. Like that bubbly stuff Daddy drinks.”

Gabe frowned. He had a little bit more taste than champagne, thank you very much. He was a whiskey man, through and through. With the occasional bourbon. And mezcal sometimes too.

“So?”

“So, we have Daddy’s wings,” Declan declared. “Mine’s lighter, but you have his gold.”

“But it’s got silver, too! And white!”

“If I may?” Michael interjected softly, capturing his niece and nephew’s attentions. “Your father’s wings long ago were white with a few silver feathers sprinkled in actually.”

“What?”

Gabe glanced down and exhaled quietly. Way to go, Mikey. Reveal all their secrets in one go.

“When our father, your grandfather,” Michael continued, “first created us, he made me first, then Uncle Lucifer, Uncle Raphael, and then your father. My wings were white at first before they turned to this pastel silvery-blue you see. All our wings, in fact, first started white. It’s why humans always choose it as our wing coloring in their paintings and such. In time, though, the tone alters through Grace and our actions into our current colors.”

Declan squinted hard, clearly thinking on this.

“Meaning, the colors you currently display will alter as you grow up and into your wings. Which is likely one reason why your father said no to the rainbow monstrosities of your uncle’s, Maddie.”

“So, I might get gold wings, too?” Declan asked timidly.

Michael smiled thinly. “I’d imagine it’d be more amber than gold, but they will be darker, yes.”

Maddie’s eyes fell to the grass. She then hugged Gabe, burying her face against him sniffling.

“What’s wrong?”

“I love you,” she murmured against him. So damn cute.

“I love you, too, mooselet.” He caught her soft snicker at the new nickname, gently ruffling her hair. “What do you say to flying now?” They had already wasted an hour unfortunately. But he knew it was important to discuss things, feelings and such. One had to be in the right mindset for their first flight. Otherwise, it’d be disastrous. He knew that firsthand.

“You’ll catch me?”

“Always.” He briefly kissed her forehead, letting a tendril of his Grace gently brush against hers. The second he heard her surprised gasp, he smiled faintly and pulled back. “You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid. Because I love more intensely than anyone else and love for forever. Not even the Empty could take me from you two. I will always be right here with you. Got it, little cherub of mine?” He caught her sniffled, jerky nod, and quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks with a sigh. “Declan?”

“Daddy?”

“Come here, bud.” When he felt his son step up beside him, he wrapped arms around them, pulling his kids into his chest. “Hold on tight.”

“Wh—”

Their question was cut off as he instantly propelled them up into the sky, his wings cutting through the air effortlessly and sending them up high. He chuckled when they held onto him for dear life. It was just like Cassie and Balthy all over again. As soon as they were high enough up of the ground, his wings spread wider, feeling the slight ache in the bones from the sudden stop. It had been too long since his last flight. He needed to do this more often and exercise them properly. He hovered for a moment as he considered their next move. He needed them to learn to trust their instincts. To get a feel for all of it somehow. However, with limited Grace, there was only so much he could do.

_“What do you need from us?” Michael asked in his mind as he and Balthazar soon joined them._

He glanced at his older brother and smiled faintly.

_“Think you can spare some Grace and snap them onto my wings? I don’t want to drop them.”_

_“I can do one better than that,” grinned his older brother, snapping his fingers a second later._

_“Oooh, a bubble. Nice,” Balthazar joined in on their brotherly angelic radio discussion. “But won’t that cause more drag when he’s flying? I personally would like to remain on Sam’s good side.”_

Rolling his eyes, Gabe let another small tendril of Grace brush lovingly over his kids. “Let’s have some fun. Shall we?” The second he felt little hands grab his feathers, he shot off through the sky like a rocket. At the sound of high-pitched squeals of joy, he turned unexpectedly hard to the left before he flew down in a sharp spiral. A second later, they shot back up, rushing high in the sky again. He had missed hearing their laughs, feeling their happiness. He was so thankful to share this with them at least.

* * *

Several hours had come and gone so quickly for them. The proud angelic dad glanced at his two children who were having the time of their lives, flying their little hearts out in the cool December air. They had mastered turns and climbs in no time whatsoever. And now, the little brats were showing off more aerobatic tricks like spirals, rolls, and loop-the-loops. More than a few times, he had felt his heart leap into his throat when they had gotten a little too close for comfort with the ground. He swore the little hellions of his were trying to kill him. However, he had gotten video of them flying regardless for Sam, editing out the terrifying moments naturally. The last thing he needed was a panicky husband.

Their kids were happy. They were safe. And they were so fucking loved.

“Look, Daddy!” Maddie yelled over her shoulder before she instantly nosedived.

He flew after her just in case, hoping to whoever was listening above that this didn’t end badly. When her wings swiftly expanded out unexpectedly and she glided gracefully over the hill, he let out the breath he had been holding. Oh, thank fucking Heavenly Host.

“Did you see?”

“I saw.” _And nearly vomited over it, little one,_ he added silently in his head. Amber eyes darted to keep Declan in his line of eyesight as well, thankful his bros hovered between the two Nephilim. He banked hard to fly around a tree, cursing his daughter for another heart attack inducing last second veer.

The moment he did, though, he let out a sharp cry at a quick burst of pain in a primary wing. Distracted temporarily by it, he slammed hard into a branch he hadn’t noticed somehow, tumbling rapidly end over end before he slammed hard onto his wings. _Crack!_

“Fuck!” he roared, a bit of his True Voice leaking out and creating a violent tremor of the Earth.

“Daddy!” cried his kids from above somewhere.

He stared upwards, feeling the sharp, stabbing pain in his wings. Yep. That hurt like a bitch!

“Gabriel!” Michael yelled, dropping beside him a second later.

He let out a weak cough. “Hey, Mikey.” He then noticed his kids staring down horrified. “Hey . . .” He coughed again, groaning. The last of his strength finally waned, allowing darkness inside. _Crap._


	6. Broken Halos

At the feel of something tickling his nose, Gabe grumbled, jerking his head away. A soft giggle gave away his tickler’s identity instantly. _Maddie_. He gradually pulled himself from his rest then, his eyes silently fluttering trying to push past his heavy eyelids.

“Maddie!” Sam whispered exasperatedly somewhere from Gabe’s right. “What have I said about sneaking off? Come here.”

“But—” she murmured, her warm breath hitting Gabe in the face almost instantly. She had to be mere inches from him somehow.

“No. Come here. Now!” Sam sounded closer now. “We need to let him rest.”

A moment later, everything stopped its chaotic rocking and the warmth he had previously felt also left. Sam must have grabbed her. He forced another weak cough, needing to at least let his husband know he was semi alive. Though, the fire he felt in his back made him wish he weren’t to be honest.

“Gabe?”

One eye managed to peek open finally. He was in their room, resting in their bed on his stomach for some reason. He hated sleeping on his stomach. He was very much a side sleeper. Well, more like he was very much an octopus-sleeper according to his husband, but that was arguing semantics really. And he was way too exhausted for that.

“Hey. There you are,” smiled Sam, his face coming in view as a hand grabbed Gabe’s.

“Ow,” he mouthed, unable to find the strength to speak more than that. It got the point across, though. Everything hurt. His chest. His back. His head.

“Yeah, I don’t doubt it.”

“Daddy’s awake!” Maddie shouted from somewhere behind Sam.

“In case you were wondering, your daughter clearly missed you,” announced Sam with an amused eyeroll.

As if there was any doubt really considering how clingy she had been lately.

“How bad?” He groaned. He then coughed harshly, feeling each stabbing sharp pain at it.

“Pretty bad.” Sam then sighed heavily. “You broke your wing according to your brother.”

Yeah. That Gabe assumed as much. It felt super sore back there. Definitely what it had felt like the last time. Only then it was just a broken wing, not all this other crap on top of it too.

“So, they have it splinted somehow. Not sure how as I can’t see it exactly.” He then flashed an apologetic, shy smile. “Honestly, I sort of let them focus on the wing healing aspect since they’re the experts in this sort of thing.”

Gabe could understand that. He tried to move his wings, but nothing happened. Based on the weight on his back, he could tell his wings were outside of his vessel somehow, just hidden. Probably a minor shielding spell if he had to guess. And definitely a shrinking spell too as they felt lighter than usual, which made sense if they had splinted his broken wing.

“Michael’s not going to heal it?” _That asshole._

“He said it needed to be set properly, and he wasn’t going to do that without your approval first.” At the sight of Gabe’s annoyance, Sam smiled, leaning closer and cupping his cheek lovingly. “So, naturally, I told your brother he was being a dumbass and to set it anyway or else.”

“Thank you.” Yet another reason he knew he had chosen the right Winchester of the two.

“Anytime, babe.” Sam then sighed heavily. “They said you’re going to have to rehab it later. A few wing exercises for about a month or so, but that it should heal eventually to let you fly again.”

“Wait.” Amber eyes narrowed as he tried to work through the hazy fog of pain in his mind. “He set the bone, but he didn’t heal it the rest of the way?” Fuck, his brother was a heartless dick sometimes. _Goddamn it, Mikey._

“Oh, he tried.” His husband gave a quiet laugh. “You rejected his Grace, though.” A smile then quickly flooded his face.

 _Huh?_ And why the hell was Sam so smiley about this whole thing? What was he missing? Other than his wedding ring again, it seemed. He frankly didn’t see how any of this was the least bit amusing. His wings hurt like a bitch still, and breathing felt more like torture than anything at this point.

“When your brother tried to heal you, well, you ended up somehow managing to throw Michael into a wall instead.”

He did _what_ now? He threw Mikey into a wall?

“How?” Gabe couldn’t feel the steady thrum of his Grace in the slightest, so it made zero sense. He could maybe do it fully powered, but even that was like a five percent chance. But like this? No . . .

“Honestly?” Sam shrugged. “We’re not exactly sure. Just one second, your brother’s leaning over you to heal you. The next you’re screaming. And then, there’s Michael flying through the air and hitting the back wall a second later.”

Well, at least something good came out of it. “The kids?” He’d hate if they witnessed that.

“Balthazar stepped in and took them away the second you yelled,” Sam explained. “They weren’t exactly thrilled of course, but . . .” Sighing, his husband gave a quiet chuckle. “And Maddie here,” he declared, leaning back and twisting away before he pulled their daughter back up onto the bed with them “has decided she’s going to sneak away every chance she can get to be near you.”

“Hey, Mads,” Gabe murmured. Another coughing fit took over then unfortunately that caused his daughter to flinch and let out a little whimper.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled with trembling lips.

“Come here.”

Sam helped her scoot closer before she tucked herself under Gabe’s arm.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he whispered, meeting her watery eyes.

“You’re hurt,” she argued, more tears streaking down her cheeks.

“Yeah, but that’s not your fault, baby girl. I got distracted.” He winced, slowly trying to rub her back. He was thankful when Sam helped him. “I’ll live. Don’t worry. I’ve been through worse.” So much worse than this, but he would never tell his kids that. He sighed heavily when she buried herself under his chin a moment later, jostling his shoulder as she hugged him. He glanced at his husband. They’d be lucky if this didn’t make her nightmares ten times worse.

Sam nodded back, clearly having a similar thought.

“Where’s our other brat?” Gabe asked affectionately.

“With your brother.” Sam then gave an awkward chuckle. “Balthazar that is. He’s making you a ‘Get Well Soon’ card.”

“With Balthy supervising?”

“And Cas,” Sam pointed out as if that made it better.

Gabe raised a brow and stared hard back. Yeah . . . that didn’t make him feel any better honestly. He knew exactly what sort of trouble those two idiots could get themselves into with their so-called good intentions. He’d be lucky if his son didn’t end up sporting rainbow wings himself.

“Sam . . .”

“I’m sure Cas will make sure they don’t—”

“Balthazar, Castiel, and Declan. Alone. Together,” he stated with a pointed look. Balthy and Cas by themselves spelled trouble. Add in a Nephilim who was a chip off his Trickster Dad’s ol’ block and loved pranks? _Yeah . . ._

“Yes, but Cas is a father himself and—”

The lights in the room then cut out before harsh reddish emergency lights turned on, bathing their room in the sinister coloring.

“You were saying, dear sweet husband of mine?” Gabe sang cheekily, ignoring the growing fear.

Sam sighed heavily, his head falling forward. “For the record, still doesn’t necessarily mean it was because of your brothers and our kid.”

“Oh?” he quipped. “Expecting an alien invasion, are we?”

“SAM!” Dean yelled from somewhere outside their room and down the hallway.

“Ah, and there’s your pissed-off brother.” As long as he kept teasing, he wasn’t focusing on the pain and memories trying to slither to the front of his mind. Sliding his leg, he frowned when Sam’s hand instantly went to his hip, forcing him to pause in his movement. “Sam-ibal, whatcha doin’?”

“You’re supposed to stay on your stomach. I know you hate it. But they couldn’t risk folding your broken wing and doing potentially more damage to it.”

“Uh-huh. Coolio.” Gabe bent his leg up a little higher, feeling Maddie squirm to give him more room as he moved. He was not going to go fully onto his side (not that his wings were going to allow it anyway), but he was at least going to get a bit more comfortable than this. He brought his left arm up to cradle under his head, twisting his lower half to half-rest on the left side of his hip. Sam shook his head in response and rolled his eyes.

“Fine. But if you get a cramp in your wing or whatever, don’t start complaining to me.”

“You love me, and you know it.”

“Debatable,” quipped Sam, leaning over and kissing the corner of Gabe’s lips. “Maddie, sweetheart, make sure your dad’s not his usual dumbass self while I’m gone, will you?”

“Language, moose!” Gabe mock-gasped, moving his arm slightly to act as if he was covering their daughter’s ears. His chest muffled her soft giggles—or what he assumed was giggles since he couldn’t actually see her.

Hazel eyes rolled before Sam lovingly ruffled their daughter’s light brown hair. He then swept out of the room into the flashing red corridor.

When he felt Maddie bury herself further into him, Gabe frowned.

“I know, kiddo,” he sighed. She needed him. “I don’t like the noise and lights either.” It reminded him too much of Knockoff Colonel Sanders busting into the bunker to grab him back.

He licked his lips as a flicker of panic sparked inside. He couldn’t let himself be distracted with that nonsense, though, not when his daughter was clearly upset. She had to be his priority. Always.

At the feel of her tiny hands clutching him tighter a second later, he felt his insides twist more. He knew the fear she felt pretty well unfortunately. “I got you, Mads. It’ll be over soon enough,” he reassured. “Promise.” Her sniffles then filtered up as he felt her tears start to streak down his chest. “Soon as your sexy dad, Mister October himself, can make it to the control panel and reset it again.”

“I’m sorry,” she cried, repeating it over and over.

“Oh, my little fledgling,” he whispered, feeling his own eyes well up as she continued her broken chants that hurt worse than his injuries. Than any of Asmodeus’s torture had. More than anything in the world. “You have nothing to apologize for. You did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing.”

“I . . . please,” she sobbed against him, clutching him like a lifeline. “Don’t go.”

“Maddie—”

“Don’t go. Please,” she pleaded, her body shaking from her sobs. “I’ll be good. Promise.”

He couldn’t hold back the choked cry that had burst from within him then. Ignoring his injured wing, he twisted slightly more and cupped her little face, so their eyes would meet. He could see the mirrored pain in her beautiful minty eyes. How many times had he begged his brothers? Pleaded with his own father not to leave him like she was now?

“Maddie, I will never, ever leave you again.”

“But you did!” she cried shakily. “You lef’ us.”

“I know.” He sighed, gently wiping away her tears with his thumbpads. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I was trying to help, but every moment I was away, I wanted to be here with you. Honest.”

“Liar!”

“No,” he argued patiently. “I’m telling the truth. Promise.”

“No!” Her little fists then started to hit him repeatedly in the chest, striking him a few times against where he was certain were obvious deep bruises. “Liar! You’re a liar!” She then scrambled back, which he desperately tried but ultimately failed in grabbing her to keep her from running.

“Madelyn Winchester!” he bellowed, a little of his True Voice seeping through and causing a few of the lightbulbs to explode. He must have had a little of his Grace somewhere left. “Stop this instant!” When she did, he pushed through his pain, quickly going to his feet to reach her. If he could, then he could fix this. Somehow. Though, hell, if he knew how to do that exactly.

Ignoring the sweat starting to bead down his neck and face, he stumbled towards his little girl. His pain quickly reached intolerable levels, but he trudged on, biting his cheek to keep from vocalizing how much everything hurt. He could deal with that nonsense later. This was important, though.

“Maddie,” he gasped, pausing to take a labored breath and lean heavily against the end table.

She whirled around, causing him to take a step back as his brows vanished beneath his hairline. Golden bright eyes full of wrath and uncontrolled Grace glared back. There was no green whatsoever.

“Mads,” he murmured, keeping his voice even and calm, “snuggle bunny, take a deep breath.”

Uncontrolled Nephilim Grace was always volatile. Part of the reason his dad frowned upon the whole messing with humans as a whole. Some of Earth’s worst disasters were caused by a Nephilim losing control. Add in the fact she was his kid, though? Fuck, the odds weren’t in Humanity’s favor.

“Please?” he pleaded, giving her a soft smile as his stomach did nervous backflips.

“You lef!” she shouted, her little fists clenched at her sides. Gasping hiccup-like breaths, she then growled, “And you’ll do it ‘gain, too.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Liar!”

“Princess, I wouldn’t lie to you. I wouldn’t. Promise.” He may hide things occasionally. Like now, for example, with how much in pain he was, but it technically wasn’t lying.

“Liar!” she shouted again.

“Maddie, I love you.” The second he saw her raise her hand in an eerily familiar way, he lunged forward to stop her.

The harsh finger snap reverberated around the room, though. He was too late.

A wave of displaced golden Grace crashed into him and rushed out like a shockwave from her.

His arms squeezed her tight against him, gasping as his mind raced. _Oh no . . ._

“What did you do?” Were they in an alternate reality? A Mindscape? Had she destroyed the world somehow? Had she destroyed Heaven? “Madelyn Maeve!” What did she do?

When she still didn’t answer, he shakily lowered himself onto his knees before her, gently grabbing her face. His eyes narrowed briefly on the bright blue pigment on his hands now but dismissed it, needing to know what she had done. He’d add the blueness to the pile of crap he’d deal with later.

“Answer me! What did you just do?”

“Now, you can’t go,” she declared mightily proud of herself, her eyes losing their earlier fury.

“What do you mean by that?” He felt a chill sweep down his back.

“Smurfs can’t go to Heaven.”


	7. I'm Blue

Frowning an hour later, Gabe crossed his arms as he sat backwards in the office chair like a petulant child. Only when his beard started to itch, he brought up a hand, scratching deep with a low growl. He grimaced a few times as Michael once again splinted his broken wing, which was temporarily barely visible. He could barely make it out, but from what he could, his wing was a bloody mess.

Somehow, likely getting out of bed in such a rush, Gabe had managed not only to ruin the splint somehow, but also rebreak his wing underneath it to the point of exposing the bone. Thankfully, his older brother said nothing about Gabe’s other big problem. Miracles clearly existed to have that happen.

“Are you quite certain you wish to go through with this then?” Michael asked quietly, having mulled over everything Gabe had been saying for the past ten minutes.

Heaving an exaggerated sigh, he glanced up in annoyance at Mikey. Yes, he was sure. He wouldn’t have brought it up if he weren’t. Though, he supposed his brother was just doing his due diligence. As if it mattered at all. His mind was made up. Had been since he came home actually.

“I was meaning to do it earlier when we were out flying,” Gabe admitted, “but the Smurfing Whomping Willow of Kansas smacked my Smurfy self into the ground instead,” he grumbled. It figured that the one time he was flying for fun in eons would be the time he’d injure himself. It was just his luck. He then blinked as it registered what he had said. Oh, that was just Smurfin’ great. Smurftastic!

“If you’re certain . . .”

“Yep.” He didn’t trust himself to say more than that, working his jaw back and forth furiously. Of all the—it had to be Smurfs! It had to be the Smurfin’ Smurfs for Smurfy’s sake. Why had he wanted his kids to know about them again? Though, he supposed the more he thought on it, his current predicament could have been worse. So much worse. And he did love the Smurfs, so . . .

When he felt the flicker of Grace pass over his wing, Gabe grimaced, jerking back slightly. His brother must have finished splinting it again.

“Mikey?”

“Yes?”

He waited until his brother paused and glanced at him before he continued speaking, “Ask Balthazar to take my place.”

“Balthazar?” His brother looked like he had swallowed a keg of tart hard lemonade.

Gabe had expected that, though. “I know you’ve had your differences—”

“Interesting way of putting it,” scoffed his eldest brother.

“Jack needs someone to remind him of his humanity. To break the tensions that come from being up there and all the politics all the time.” He then growled under his breath, scratching at his stupid beard again. He couldn’t wait until he could take a shower later and smooth this the Smurf down.

“And you think I can’t offer that?”

“Seriously, Mikey?” Did a duck quack? Of course he thought that. Anyone who had ever met his eldest brother would have thought that. Mikey and Gabe were complete opposites down to their very Grace. Which, he supposed, was a fancy way of saying his brother had a permanent stick up his ass, whereas Gabe played loose and free with all the rules.

Michael frowned before he shook his head. “Fine. I’ll ask. However, he’ll say no.”

“Not if you frame it the right way.”

“I’m not going to indulge in his childish tendencies, Gabriel.”

“You indulged me,” he pointed out with a shrug. Not a lot times of course (his brother still had that _sterling_ reputation of his to uphold), but enough that it was noticeable at least.

“That’s different.”

“Why?” Gabe felt his insides visibly clench at that dreaded word his kids had ruined forever. He would have to figure out another way to phrase things for the next hundred or so years.

“Because—” His brother then let out a loud exhale. The tension rolled off him. “It just is.”

“Michael—”

“Because you’re different.”

The question rolled off his tongue before he could stop himself, “What the Smurf does that mean?” He then clenched his jaw as the other side of his beard then started to itch like crazy. What? Had a freaking colony of Smurfing fleas decide to take up residence in his Smurfing beard? For Smurf’s sake, this was truly ridiculous.

“It means—Gabriel, I—” Michael then pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a brief second. His shoulders sagged heavily before he lifted his head up miserably. “Must I spell it out?”

“Please do.” Because Gabe had no clue where the hell his brother was going with this exactly. He had an idea, but it couldn’t be _that_.

“I don’t consider them family. You, Raph, and Luci are. That’s why you’re different. Why I gave you so much free reign this time. Because I didn’t want to push you away again.” He then remarked bitterly, “And yet here we are again.”

Or maybe it could be exactly what Gabe had thought it was. Huh. He’d be Smurfed. _Smurfit!_

“Mikey—”

A knock against the semi-closed door made them both sigh for different reasons.

“You can come in, Sam,” announced Michael quietly.

A smile tugged at the corner of Gabe’s lips when his husband pushed the door open and walked in a moment later. _Oh, Smurf!_ Not the gray sweatpants! Those hung so low and showed off that delicious v (and so much more) perfectly. Oh, Gabe was having very, very unSmurfy thoughts right then, wishing his big bro were back upstairs.

“How’s our patient?” teased Sam, meeting Gabe’s hungry look as he approached.

“Insufferable as always,” Michael drawled with an anguished sigh. “But he’ll live.”

“Thank Smurfette for miracles.”

Gabe instantly glared murderously. That wasn’t funny. He took back what he said, all the thoughts of things he’d do to his husband when they were alone. Every single one of them. When he heard the muffled, choked laugh from his brother a second later, his head whipped towards Michael.

“Don’t make me kick your—”

“Smurfs?” offered Sam.

“Or is it Smurfyhole?” Michael chimed in oh-so-helpfully.

Both brats quickly dissolved into a fit of laughter moments later.

“I don’t like either of you very much right now,” Gabe grumbled with a scowl.

“What else is new?” quipped his husband, rolling his eyes as he nodded his gratitude towards Michael who took his leave a second later. “Keep it up, and Santa is going to give you a lump of coal.”

Gabe huffed, glaring forward at nothing in particular. “She made me a Smurf, Sam!” An itchy bearded Smurfified depowered archangel.

“Technically, she made you—”

Sam’s voice cracked unexpectedly, which caused his head to snap back. When he saw it was only because his husband was trying to keep from belly laughing again, he frowned, turning away. _JackSmurf._ Ugh. This unable to swear was really getting on his last Smurfing nerve. _GodSmurfIt!_

“I’m sorry. I know,” his husband apologized with a few more snickers. “It’s just—you should see yourself right now. It’s so freaking—”

“Lovely,” Gabe cut him off sharply, glaring. “Thank you, love of my life.”

The second his Grace returned, his husband was going to find himself in a loop of genital herpes commercials. That was a Smurfing good promise. Sam maybe would even get a few erectile dysfunction commercials for good measure. One or two even good ol’ fashioned Mayhem ads from Allstate, too. Or maybe Gabe would go wild again and bring back the nutcracker. Anything would go.

A quiet sigh then fell from his lips a moment later. Well, almost anything at least. He wasn’t truly that mad. More so annoyed and glum. Always a dangerous combination for him.

He hated this, though. Absolutely hated it. He was thankful Maddie hadn’t shrunk him down to the proportional size of the fictional cartoon character at least. At least he had that going for him. Because, clearly, all he really needed at this point was yet another reason to be teased over the height difference between him and Sam. But, well, he was blue with a white bushy beard that wouldn’t stop itching like crazy. Put him in some flaming red-hot pants and a matching cap, and Sam was a hundred percent right. Gabe would be a damn good cosplaying Papa Smurf. In fact, he’d wager he would even probably beat everyone at Comic Con with how good this was. And it sucked.

“Hey.” Sam gently tilted Gabe’s head up so their eyes would meet. “Would it help any if I told you that Papa Smurf was my favorite one?”

“You are sick, sick individual, Sam Winchester,” he groused back, glancing down with crossed arms. To even make that remark— “Papa Smurf was a kind-hearted Smurf who led with kindness and cared so much about his little Smurfs. He wasn’t above offering second chances to Gargamel, Azrael, and any others. And here you are lusting—”

“Hardly,” Sam interjected with an eyeroll. “Trust me. It’s not that. I’m merely saying out of all the Smurfs the other night, Papa Smurf was my favorite. He reminded me of you, Gabe. Not the other way around. You’re kind-hearted, leading with kindness and love now. And you’re not above letting people try to make up for their mistakes, but once they show they haven’t learned their lesson, you protect your loved ones.”

“Whatever.”

His husband sighed heavily. “You’re being a brat.”

“I’m a Smurf, Sam! She snapped her fingers and turned me into a Smurfing Smurf!”

“And she’s—well—”

Gabe caught the wince and glared.

“She didn’t want you to go.”

“I don’t care!” he huffed. “Her intentions don’t matter here. They don’t. She—our beautiful girl, _my_ baby girl—turned me—her father, Daddy numero uno—into a SMURF!” he all but yelled.

“I know.”

“I love the Smurfs, Sam! Absolutely love the Smurfy adorable things! And she j-just—gah!” He couldn’t even get the words out. But it was definitely the worst betrayal in the history of betrayals, and he knew all about betrayals.

“Gave you a taste of your own medicine for once?” remarked the soon-to-be dead moose.

“Sam,” he warned in a low growl. This wasn’t a lesson. This was a betrayal of the worst kind.

“Seriously. Think about it.” Sam gave a light shrug. “Our daughter learned this type of behavior from you and me. We can only blame ourselves here.”

He didn’t want to think about that. Deep down, sure, he knew his husband was right. Gabe used his power and Grace to stop something at any cost that would hurt him or others (if one just kept the disastrous Apocalypse out of it), and Sam would use his brainiac side to plan on how to achieve the best chance of success. But it didn’t make that any better, though. She was going to ruin his beloved Smurfs.

“We just have to wait for her trick to wear off. That’s it.”

“Or for her to realize I’m not leaving.”

“Or that,” Sam agreed with a nod. His eyes then narrowed minutely before he shifted his weight slightly. He was feeling awkward about something. Three. Two. One. “Gabe?” Just like clockwork.

Sighing loudly, he glanced up with an obvious look of dread, the chair groaning underneath.

“She said you promised you weren’t ever going to leave again.”

He vaguely remembered saying something like that. In between the blind panic and heartbreak.

“Did you?” Sam asked.

“Are you asking if I lied?” he snapped, glaring back grumpily.

Wow, was he in a mood! Gabe hadn’t meant to sound so Smurfy, but the implication . . . He couldn’t help but bristle at that.

“Of course not.” His husband pressed his lips tighter for a moment, clearly pausing to think on his following words. When his broad shoulders finally sagged in defeat, he spoke again. “I guess I’m asking because of our conversation the other night.” Ah. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be here. That I need you—I mean—”

“Easy, tiger. I know what you mean,” he sighed, resting a hand on his husband’s and noticing his ring was back. “It’s not that.” He smiled at the reflected Enochian phrase glowing on their wedding bands. Of all the decisions he made, infusing his Grace into their custom-made rings had to be the best.

“Then what?”

“I’ve missed so much with this back and forth already. I don’t want to miss anything else.”

“I can understand that. But are you going to be happy with this? Being home all the time? Not being up there with your brothers? Your nephew?”

“I’d be with the people who matter the most to me, so, yeah, I think so. Depending on if my husband is being his usual Smurfy self or not I suppose.”

“That Smurfhole.”

Gabe couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “You just like saying that word.”

“Which word?” Sam frowned, trying his best to look innocent and failing.

Rolling his whiskey eyes, Gabe snorted. _Uh huh._

“Oh, you mean” Sam leaned in super close with a wide shit-eating grin “ _Smurfhole?_ ” he murmured in a low growl into his husband’s ear. “Is that the word?”

“Sam . . .”

“Is it getting you Smurfy? Are you—”

His head whipped towards his husband and shoved him back, feeling his cheeks unfortunately turn heated quickly. _Smurf you, Smurfhole._ The second he caught the widening eyes in surprise before a glint took over, he swallowed, feeling his usual mischievous naughty side battling the good inside.

“Huh. What do you know?” Sam teased, smirking widely. “Smurfs do blush.”

“You are a bad, bad man, Sam Winchester.” The absolute positively worst. To make that sort of joke even, it had to be a big factor in which place one ended up in the afterlife. And he truthfully didn’t want to have to fly downstairs (as Cassie had for Dean—and later Sam) to drag his moose from there.

“Oh, really? You’re telling me if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t—”

“No. I wouldn’t,” Gabe asserted firmly. “I’d very much not be trying to tarnish the sweet and innocent image of beautiful blue beloved cartoon characters who just wanted to be Smurfing happy all day and sing their adorable songs while outsmarting Gargamel and Azrael every chance they could.”

“Gabe.”

He sighed heavily. “What?” he sighed, already regretting it the second the word left his lips.

“Do you think I’d be Brainy Smurf if she did this to me? So, it’d be Papa Smurf and Brainy—”

A pillow sailed. The absolute worst! And Gabe knew he was a hundred percent to blame for it.


	8. Lips of an Angel

After dealing with his white frizzy mess of a beard and mustache by trimming it back and massaging special oils he had asked his brother to retrieve, he felt a little better than before. He at least didn’t feel like he needed to scratch it every two seconds anymore. So, that was better.

Slipping into his second favorite pair of sweats as his first pair was missing according to Sam, he tugged them up and sighed. Not even the inappropriateness of Scrat could make him smile right now. He just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. He knew he should probably grab some food, considering it had been several hours but dismissed it. He honestly just wanted to sleep forever and forget the entire world.

With another loud, grumpy grumble, he yanked the shirt Sam had put out for him, throwing it on as well. Any other time, he’d have been grinning from ear to ear at the absurdity and absolute disregard for normality and appropriateness his outfit had. But he didn’t feel like it. He really didn’t.

Sam had revealed pre-shower that Maddie was absolutely refusing to speak to anyone now. Gabe, naturally, of course had to try for himself. She had instantly broken down into sobs, turning away at the sight of him. Declan had quickly pulled his sister into his arms, calming her down again. So, with a heavy broken heart, Gabe had taken his leave then, watching Cassie take his place with the kids. He was grateful that they at least had his little brother there for them.

His floppy eared Deadpool slippers flip-flopped the entire way down the vacant corridors as he headed to bed. His wing ached badly, as did his chest and head still. And the stupid ibuprofen or Tylenol or whatever they had given him earlier hadn’t helped in the slightest. He was utterly miserable.

Pushing open the half-closed door a moment later, he stepped inside, stopping short and rearing back with a blink. Lit candles were now everywhere in the small room.

“Uh . . .” Amber eyes darted to his husband who was standing at the foot of their bed with a smile and rose in hand—and those Smurfing gray sweatpants again. Oh, Smurf! Gabe swallowed and then drug a hand against the back of his neck, shifting slightly. “Please tell me I didn’t forget out anniversary.” That’d be the icing on this Smurfless cake seriously.

“Is it February?” Sam replied neutrally.

“No.” It was a few days before Christmas supposedly, but they hadn’t decorated yet like it was.

“Then you didn’t forget.”

“But—” He stepped inside, quietly closing the door. “What is all this then?” Because it sure looked like their date nights.

“This” Sam gestured “is an extension of the date from the other night.”

Okay . . . ? They had finished that date, though, hadn’t they? In fact, more than a few muscles of Gabe’s were still pleasantly sore from their activities.

“Why?” he questioned thoroughly confused.

“Because I have a new kink I want to explore.”

“Sam!”

His husband snickered. “Sorry. I had to.” He then shrugged. “Because you’re having a shitty week, and everyone loves to be pampered during those times. And you’ve done it more than a few times over the years for me.” Sam then tilted his head to the side. “And, well, it’s the only way I can get you to remember to eat regularly it’d seem.”

“I’m fine,” he replied dismissively. It had only been eight or nine hours by his estimate since he had last eaten his protein bar for breakfast. Hardly anything to call for this.

“I’m sure you are, but humor me, will you?”

“Fine.” He brushed off some petals sprinkled on their bed before he crawled atop, minding his invisible injured wing, as he spread out on his stomach towards the tv that had some logo he didn’t recognize. The disillusionment and shrinkage were one thing. He could understand why his brother had done that. Upstairs viewed showing one’s wings to anyone other than one’s mate while Earthside to be blasphemous. One might even say sacrilegious. But why had his brother manipulated physics for it as well? He should have been bumping into things like a clumsy newbie honestly. He expected that, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t complaining necessarily, but Mikey didn’t need to waste Grace on that. Gabe could have managed somehow.

When Sam stretched out on his left a moment later, Gabe sighed silently. He was being spoiled. And he honestly didn’t know how to handle it right now without saying something stupid like usual and ruining this completely. He honestly wasn’t used to this sort of thing yet, and it had been almost five years already with Sam. It should have been secondhand by now, yet it always threw him.

“On a scale from one to ten,” his husband asked quietly, passing him a plate with several slices of BBQ ranch chicken pizza (the ones dripping with ranch and mounds of other toppings he enjoyed he noticed) and a small side salad (again covered in ranch with more topping than salad), “what would you say your pain is right now exactly?”

“One,” Gabe lied, keeping his eyes far from the questioning hazel.

It actually was closer to one-fifteen, but he knew how the truth would go over right then.

“Really? Just . . . _one_?”

Stuffing a slice of the homemade flatbread in his mouth quickly, he turned his head towards Sam and nodded. If he just sold it with his eyes—

“That’s amazing!” declared his husband, grinning widely with playful eyes.

A hand then jostled Gabe’s back unexpectedly, sending him howling to the sky.

“Crap!” Sam leaned towards him, looking concerned. “Was that your wing?”

It wasn’t, but it had forced the archangel to jerk awkwardly and bend just enough to aggravate his wing and chest more.

Trying to push down all the pain that had exploded at that light touch, he let out a slow, shuddering breath. Oh, that was dirty . . . and so UnSmurflike. Normally, he’d have given Sam the benefit of the doubt, knowing his husband was a good man. Generally. But that look told him all he needed to know about his husband’s intention right there.

“Want to try it again?” Sam drawled a moment later smugly.

“I want a divorce,” grumbled Gabe back moodily, taking another bite.

“And I would love it if people finally stopped lying to me all the time, especially my husband.”

“You can’t do anything for me.”

“Really? You know that with absolute certainty? That I can’t help you whatsoever?”

“Sam—” He bit back his words and exhaled forcefully. Yep. He was not going to say _that_. That would only cause trouble. Take two. “Okay, all this—freaking awesome. Really.” He pulled Sam’s hand into his. “But it’s not going to heal my broken wing. It’s not going to UnSmurfify me. It’s not going to make me forget my daughter can’t stand to be around me. It’s not even going to fix the fact I was gone for three and half months, abandoning my family after promising I never would. It won’t. It’ll make me feel good, sure, temporarily, but it won’t . . .” His eyes closed gradually as his head fell forward in shame. His words trailed off quickly.

“Is this the part where you tell me you deserve this?” Sam asked quietly, slowly turning his hand in Gabe’s to knit their fingers together. “Because if it is, well, I got some words for you then, and they’re not going to be at all Smurf-nice.”

“Moose—”

“Jackass,” retorted his husband back flatly. He continued onward when Gabe sighed. “You are literally the only one who is blaming yourself over any of this. The kids and I understand why you weren’t here. Did they miss you? Yeah, they did. Did I miss you? Hell yes. But as I keep trying to beat into that thick head of yours,” he muttered, tapping his fingers against Gabe’s forehead, “we understood and didn’t once feel like you were abandoning us. You’re rebuilding Heaven. That’s important.”

“So are all of you!”

“It’s Heaven, Gabriel.”

“Exactly!” he huffed back, throwing a hand up and immediately winced. “Heaven hasn’t been home since the whole Mark fiasco. _This_ has been home. _You_ are my home, Sam! But none of it matters. It really doesn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I told Mikey I’m done. I’m out. Turned in my papers, and I’m free of the machine.”

“What?” Sam stared utterly flabbergasted. “What do you mean, _you’re out_?”

“Just that. I’m no longer a member of senior management up there. Turned my resignation into Mikey officially, and that’s all she wrote.” And it sort of felt good to say aloud.

“You quit?” Hazel eyes then narrowed even further. “On Heaven?”

Gabe shrugged flippantly. It really wasn’t that big of a deal really. “Not the first time I’ve done it as you know. Feels slightly better this time actually,” he admitted. “Because now they actually know I’m done with them up there for good this time.”

Closing his eyes, Sam sighed heavily.

“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not that. Promise, Sam. I know you rock at being Mister Mom. So, don’t start spinning that big brain of yours on some lie about me not trusting you. That’s not why. It really isn’t.”

“You’ve given this thought then? Really thought it out?”

“Yeah. I have.”

“This isn’t some kneejerk reaction you’re having because of how crappy this week’s been? You’re positive? Because it’s not going to be all ‘family movie nights, slumber parties’ times.”

“I know that.”

“I know you know that. I’m just—I need you to be sure this is what _you_ want. Not what you think I want you to want.”

“Well, how can we be sure it’s not what I think you want me to want and it’s really what I want but not because you think I want you to think I want that because I want you?”

When the question hit both, they let out quiet chuckles at the absurdity.

“I’m only saying I want you to do this for the right reasons. I don’t want this to turn into a fight down the line where you resent it and claim I’m taking you from your brothers.”

“Sam-ship, love of my life, I can always ask them to come down here if I get homesick, but I won’t. But if by some weird messed up thing I do, I have a plan.” He then glanced at their hands before he lifted his husband’s hand up, pressing light kisses against Sam’s knuckles, lingering atop of the glowing wedding ring that burned brighter at the action. “Like I told you the day we married, being with you is the happiest I’ve been in a very long, long time. And knowing I’m going to wake up every day beside you, not giving a damn about what the idiots upstairs are doing this time—nirvana.”

“Gabe—”

“No.” He blew out an annoyed sigh. “I’m tired. All right? Tired of bouncing back and forth between the family who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about me other than what I could for them and the family who gives me life, purpose. My place is here. With you and the kids.” Sam’s eyes softened. “Regardless of the fact Maddie doesn’t want to have a Smurfing thing to do with me currently.”

“She’ll come around again.” His husband then laughed with a shake of his head. “Hell, did you know after you left this last time, she didn’t want anything to do with me for at least a week?” He nodded when Gabe’s head tilted in confusion. “Yeah. See, she blamed me for driving you away.”

“What?”

That wasn’t what happened at all. Where in the world had she gotten that idea?

“I know. That’s what I thought at first.” Sam then blushed turning away. “And then it hit me one night out of the blue when she came in here after a nightmare. She must have tried that night, assumed you and I were fighting instead of . . .”

“Getting our sweet, sweet Smurfy on?” The second he heard the censorship, Gabe’s mood plummeted. “Oh, come on!” he yelled, throwing his hands up before curling in on himself somewhat as another flair of pain streaked up his nerves. This was ridiculous. Once the pain had let up enough, he grumbled, “That is a perfectly natural thing between consenting adults for Smurf’s sake!”

“Well, it would seem Smurfs don’t view sex that way,” Sam snickered.

“Puritans.” The first negative thing he had ever had to say about the cute little creatures.

“Kind of makes you wonder, though, doesn’t it?”

Amber eyes instantly flicked over to his husband.

“How much would this spell of hers censor exactly?”

“No.” He pointed at his tall moose, giving Sam his sternest look.

“What?”

“You know exactly what.” Why had he decided to ruin Sam completely again? At the time he thought it would have been fun. Nowadays, he regretted it with every ounce of Grace. He taught himself a lesson. Be careful what one wished for—and wasn’t that true?

Frown deepening, he chewed on his bottom lip as he went over what Sam had said. Maddie had been upset after Gabe had left? And she blamed Sam? It didn’t make sense unless Sam was right and she misunderstood what was happening behind their closed door.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“How’d you get back on her good side?”

Officially?” When Gabe nodded, Sam shrugged. “I haven’t. I mean, I think the only reason I’m not in the doghouse anymore is because I keep letting her sleep in here when it’s a bad night. Why?”

“So, you bribed her.”

“Yeah, basically.”

“Ah.”

“Are you judging me?”

“No.”

“Oh, really?” Sam crossed his arms. “Because that looks an awful lot like Judgy Smurf.”

“There’s no—ugh! Why am I even arguing with you?” The little Smurf was doing it to be a Smurf. For Smurf’s sake, he wished he could swear again because this was absurd.

Pulling his hand back, he frowned when Sam held tighter. All right then. Guess they were being clingy, touch-starved husbands tonight. He wasn’t going to complain. He leaned forward to grab another slice of pizza from his plate, only to be pulled back.

“Sam!”

“Yeah, I know,” snorted his husband, leaning forward with a hard eyeroll. “Just shut up and kiss me, Sexy Smurf.”

Sexy Smurf. Now, he liked the sound of that. A lot.

Their lips met a moment later in a tender kiss.

Visibly melting into it not long after, Gabe didn’t even care how absurd he looked. Though, he rarely did when Sam was taking charge. When his hand was finally freed, he instantly cupped his husband’s face to deep their kiss. Licking and nipping shortly after, he gave his full attention to the beautiful man who somehow avoided his wings luckily as Sam’s hands pulled him atop while they stretched out fully in the king bed, forgetting all about their food again.

And then he felt the familiar, loving coolness surge inside. Instinctively, he inhaled deeply, drawing more inside before Gabe pulled back sharply and instantly glared. His pain roared to life.

“Really?” He should have known. “You could have said, ‘Hey. I don’t like you being in pain like this. Here. Use our bond. Take a little.’ You know, give me the chance to say no instead of forcing it.”

Sam sighed loudly, pushing up on his elbows. “Yes, but then you’d have said no.”

“Yeah because it’s a double-edged sword, and you know it.”

“I’m strong. You’ve said it many times before. And I trust you.”

“Well, I don’t trust me so there.”

“Why?”

He growled, shaking his head. “I Smurfing hate that word.”

“Agreed, but for the lack of a better term . . . why don’t you trust yourself?”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“Yes, I know. Many times. And I’m just wondering on the multiple occasions I’ve offered freely, why you pull back when we both know it would help, but you’re too damned stubborn to ask.”

“I could kill you. You realize that, right? I could grab too much of your soul—and then, no more sweet, puppy dog Sam.”

“I haven’t been sweet, puppy dog Sam since I married you.

“Wow. Awesome flirting there,” Gabe quipped, frowning. “Really nailed it that time.”

“Fine. Then what about we have your brother take us to a hot spring and you soak in it?”

“Just came from a shower. Don’t want to mess up this gorgeous beard any further. Thanks.”

“Wing stimulation?”

“Not before bedtime,” he deadpanned back. Where had his husband learned about any of this? Relying on their bond, he could understand. They had done it once before with almost disastrous results. Something he still regretted to this day. But the other options? Had his husband been doing some late-night reading again? Brushing up on his archangel lore?

“Gabe—”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“I already—”

“I know. Okay. I know. I heard you. However, I also heard your brother explain how important it is for you to get the inflammation down in your wings. And I’ve been watching you wince and hobble around, absolutely miserable, too. So, I’m telling you. We either use the bond or do wing stimulation.”

“Or we could just do neither.” He voted vehemently for that option.

“You’re not a masochist, so stop acting like one.”

“Sam—”

“No. You’re in pain. And nothing is touching it.” His husband then huffed a sigh. “We gave you strong painkillers. You shouldn’t be in any pain whatsoever right now, yet you are.”

“You gave me— _when_?”

What was happening here? How many secrets were they all hiding from him exactly?

“This morning at breakfast.”

Explained why the silly pills looked different. “Why?”

“Because Michael is worried about the inflammation.”

“Mikey—wait.” He held his hand up. “My big bro talked to you?”

“All _three_ of your brothers came to talk to me.”

He stared back like one of those cute confused yellow Minions.

“Sam, it’s a broken wing. Okay?” What was happening here? “I’ll live. I’ve had one before.”

“From an incident with Cas prior to you skipping out on Heaven. I know.”

Amber eyes stared blankly down. How did Sam know about that?

“Your brothers told me the story,” his husband answered the unasked question. “All about the stubborn archangel who brushed off his pain to care for his little brothers instead. How he didn’t want to be a bother to anyone, so he kept it hidden. How it took Lucifer and Michael working together in the end, and Raphael later, to heal you properly because you hid how bad it was from everyone.” Sam then poked him in the side. “And all about how close you had gotten to losing that wing too because of your stubbornness.”

“That was a long, long time ago.”

“Yeah, so I heard. Only I have a feeling you’re doing it again now.”

“Sam—”

“Let me do this for you.”

“You can’t even see my wings. So, how are you going to—” His voice jumped an octave when a hand wrapped around an uninjured wing near where it fused with his vessel’s spine.

“You were saying?”

No. That was . . . impossible. “How?” he breathed out.

“Cas told me what to look for. I may not see the coloring, but it’s like a distortion and I see that. Sort of like heat waves coming off blacktop, or something similar to it.”

“Huh.” He’d be Smurfed. Gabe groaned inwardly at the stupid censor that was really getting on his nerves. It was cute when the actual Smurfs did it. It was just plain infuriating when he did.

“And the wave-thingy around one of your wings is quite noticeable. So . . .” Sam clapped his hands together “which is it going to be? Bond or wing?”

“Sam—”

“I trust you.”

It wasn’t a matter of trusting Sam. It really wasn’t. “We can’t.”

“Give me a reason against it.”

“Well, there’s the fact I’m a Smurf,” he replied with a scoff. “That’s a pretty big one.”

“Gabe—”

“I said no. All right? No.” Sighing heavily, he held up a hand and sighed. “Just no to either of those options. I’ll—I’ll figure something out.”

“This isn’t because your wings are enormous erogenous zones, right?” Like a Smurfing dog with a bone, Gabe swore. “Because, and I hate to break it to you here, that’s sort of a silly reason, considering everything else we’ve done before in the past.”

“It’s not that.” _But, gee, thanks for the reminder of how kinky we get sometimes._

“But it is a control thing if I’m understanding correctly?”

“Not exactly.”

“All right. You lost me then.”

Gabe wasn’t surprised by that. Of course he had. Because he didn’t want to talk about this anymore, yet his brainiac moose kept pushing like usual, wanting to help, to fix it.

“Hey,” Sam murmured, gently threading their fingers back together. “Talk to me. What’s going on? Help me understand. Because I’m just trying to help. That’s it. Because finding out that you nearly lost a wing because you were putting others first? Well, got me thinking you might be doing the same here with us this time, too. And you don’t need to. We’re a team, remember? You and me. Moose and corgi. Hunter and Archangel. Sam and Gabe. Ringing any bells?”

Licking his lips, he let his head drop atop of his hand miserably as he stared ahead at one of the lit candles. He watched the flame dance about silently, bending left then right erratically before it seemed to turn into a pattern in the chaos.

“Gabe?”

Closing his eyes, he broke down and gave in finally.

“The _Smurfs_ were the first comic I read, all right?” He still had all the first issues somewhere of the comics, not that he’d ever admit it. “Here were these cute little blue things who preached about love, family, happiness, and acceptance most of the time—and it made me happy reading about their silly little adventures. Because here was this huge family that shouldn’t work but did. They didn’t destroy everything they touched. They just were a loving family who saved one another when one of them messed up or something happened. And they all learned some kind of lesson at the end.”

“Are you saying the Smurfs taught you what a loving family was?”

“Don’t laugh,” Gabe frowned.

“I’m not. Honest.” His husband then shook his head. “So, you identified with them in some way. Longed to be a part of that kind of family.”

“Yeah.”

“And Maddie’s Smurifying you—for the lack of a better word—is bringing that back up again.”

“No. I have that family now,” Gabe argued. Because he did. Sam and the kids were that family. He even had Cas, Dean, Alec, Jack, and Balthazar as well. And maybe Mikey depending on the day.

“Okay . . . then I’m not following.”

“I’d be ruining the Smurfs, Sam. That’s why I’m saying no.”

“By us healing your wings and lowering your inflammation,” Sam said falteringly, “we would be ruining the Smurfs somehow?” Yep. He didn’t believe Gabe in the slightest obviously.

“It’s like taking the Avengers, right, and making a gratuitous porno with them in it. Like Casa Erotica: Stark Tower Nights, right?”

“Which I’m sure has been done, but okay. So, we’d be ruining their image?”

He shrugged, biting his lips at another sharp pain making itself known again.

“Okay.” Sam sighed quietly. “Well, that’s not going to happen. Because you’re not a Smurf. You’re just a blue depowered archangel I happen to be madly in love with who unfortunately was hit with a trick by our daughter. A screaming sign she clearly has some underlying abandonment issues we should probably address soon to be honest. However, you’re not a Smurf. You’re not small like one for example. But, well, let’s focus on Maddie then. Get her to change you back, and once she does, then we throw everything we have at fixing your wing.”

“Sam—” He stared back painfully when his husband cupped his cheek.

“I saw the videos you took of the kids flying. And your brother happened to send me a few more that showed you watching them. If you think for a second I’m going to let you do anything to cause you to lose that happiness, well, babe, you clearly don’t know me.”

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

“She’s three. She doesn’t know what she wants. Don’t you always tell me that?”

“Yes, but—”

“She was scared. Terrified you were going to leave again.”

“But I told her I wasn’t.”

“I don’t think in her mind that mattered. All she remembered was you not being here.” Sam then instantly grabbed him tighter. “Don’t. Don’t even start down that path,” he ordered. “Like I keep telling you, I understand. And like you said, it’s a moot point now since you resigned. So, let’s go to our daughter and tell her. Maybe once she’s calm and reassured, the spell ends.” Sam then shrugged. “Usually works with you at least.”

“You’re making me out like I’m moody.”

“You _are_. Dramatic as hell, too.”

Gabe rolled his eyes, frowning when his traitorous stomach decided to growl.

“All right. Let’s finish eating first, then we’ll go see Maddie. Sound like a deal?”

“I suppose,” he grumbled, squirming slightly with a wince.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Gabriel,” Sam cautioned in his no-nonsense tone.

“It hurts lying on my stomach.”

“Like it’s awkward or—”

“As in actual pain. I couldn’t see any bruises in the shower, though, but I’m fairly certain the Smurfing tree did damage there too.”

“Michael did mention he found some injuries there too.” His eyes quickly passed over him before he tapped his finger in thought. “All right. Let’s get you up.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Sam then lightly slapped Gabe’s ass with a smirk. “Move it. I’ve got an idea.”

“Of course you do,” Gabe huffed, rolling his eyes. The day his husband didn’t have any ideas was the day Hell would freeze over. It took some work, and Sam practically pulling him to his feet, but eventually he managed to stand again. He trailed after his husband, confused when he saw Sam grab his plate with a free hand before they headed towards the office chair. When Sam sat down a second later, he blinked. “Uh . . .”

“Sit.”

“I thought we were going—”

“We are. Sit.” Sam then tugged him closer. “Please.”

“All right.” He slowly moved to straddle his husband’s legs, facing Sam. “But absolutely no funny business, Smurfhole.”

“On my Smurfs.”

The second he sat down, he sighed, leaning forward slightly to rest his head against his husband’s shoulder. Oh, this was much better.

“Could I please just do one thing? Just one?”

“Fine,” he groaned, feeling rather annoyed and not even bothering to lift his head up.

“Thank you,” Sam whispered back before a quick kiss to his cheek.

A second later, a moan flew out of Gabe’s lips as Sam kneaded the flesh deeply where his wings connected with his back.

“That good?”

“You have no idea.” He felt his wings start to relax finally. Maybe wing stimulation wasn’t as bad as he thought it’d be. A second later, he inhaled sharply, nearly biting through his lip. Oh, Smurf! His head fell back at the brief brush that had sent so many endorphins rushing through him.

“Wow.”

“Sam,” he growled back, feeling his mind start to scramble. “Stop. Please . . .”

The hand withdrew instantly.

“Sorry.” Sam’s other hand gently brushed back his hair. “Better, though?”

“For now, yes.” Thanks to the happy endorphins that were singing operatic high notes currently.

“Good.” Pulling back, his husband twisted slightly, grabbing the slice from the plate beside them on the edge of the desk. “Now eat.”

Gabe slowly pulled back with a sigh, swallowing nervously as it became quickly apparent his wings were now fully in love with his husband. His uninjured ones had wrapped possessively around Sam and the chair. He knew without a doubt his husband had to be feeling them.

“I’m sorry.”

“Gabe, eat,” Sam said instead. “Please.” He patiently held the slice up where it’d be easy for the depowered archangel to take a bite.

“You don’t have to do this. I can do it.”

“I know you can. Just . . . please?”

Sighing, he bowed his head before he took a small bite, reminded of their honeymoon when the roles had been reversed. He had worn Sam out that night.

“What are you thinking?”

He stared deep into the beautiful hazel he could never get enough of. “Honestly?”

“No. Lie to me. Of course honestly.”

“Our honeymoon.”

“Yeah?” His husband’s smirk widened. “Sort of where I got this idea.”

“So I see.” He took another bite. When he felt Sam’s hand that had been wrapped around his waist pull back unexpectedly, he tried to keep the disappointment from his face. However, the second he felt a finger wipe at the corner of his mouth, he turned towards his husband, startled.

“Sorry.” Sam laughed softly. “Just you had some ranch right there.”

He glanced at the smeared dressing on his husband’s fingers before he impulsively leaned forward, wrapping his lips around the digits and sucking them clean.

For Smurf’s sake. They literally couldn’t even go a few minutes without one of them doing something to the other, could they? He popped off the now clean fingers obscenely, cursing himself inwardly for doing it in the first place.

“Finish your last slice.” Sam’s voice was rough and low.

“What about the salad?” Why had he asked that?

“Later. After we get Maddie to turn you back.”

“Sam . . .”

“Later,” he repeated, firmer than before. “Just. Later. All right?”

He nodded slowly and finished eating the last slice silently. His mind was definitely at war currently. Which, he supposed, was the same for Sam. They needed him to be unSmurfied, but they also needed each other. But he didn’t want to tarnish the Smurfs. Not like this. They could behave. Right?

When he felt lips quickly press against his neck, he swallowed harshly, inhaling shakily. What the Smurf was his husband doing here exactly? At needy sucking a second later atop of his carotid, he whined, inhaling in a sharp breath. As Sam licked and laved further, Gabe felt even more frenzied, even more desperate. What in the great big Smurf Forest was going on here?

Curling his fingers around the tense bulging muscular biceps he loved, he gripped Sam painfully hard. Something wasn’t right here. It couldn’t be. This was a trick. Or something. They usually could control themselves so much better than this. And Smurf—it—should have been the very last thing on his husband’s mind. Sam was a worrier, always was, always would be. He should have been obsessing over Gabe’s refusal, focusing on unSmurfifying him instead of this.

This whole thing was so eerily similar to the witch’s spell from four years ago. The one if he had to guess likely still gave his brother-in-law nightmares. It had worked in everyone’s favor, sure, since Declan came as a result of that spell, but at the time—

He then jerked in surprise when teeth playfully nipped against his flesh.

Throwing himself back hard from his husband, he hissed, baring his teeth when his back and wings slammed into their bed.

“Gabe!”

He held up a finger, though, bowing his head as he let out slow, calming breath to release both the pain and arousal that had surged inside.

“Are you all right?”

“Peachy,” he replied through grit teeth. “You?”

“Trying to figure out what the hell just happened, but fine, I think.” Sam then offered him a hand, seemingly more like himself than before. “Gabe?”

The depowered archangel picked himself up off the ground, though, using their bed to push off.

“You’re not thinking—”

Judging by the horrified look on his husband’s face now, he knew Sam had come to the same startling conclusion he had. Of all the things he had thought could happen, this wasn’t anywhere even remotely close to being on the list. And yet, he knew it should have been.

“She’s three!”

“And a Nephilim,” he pointed out quietly, continuing to calm himself. “And as you said yourself, she wants me to stay. She’s proving she’s going to use any means to achieve that goal. Just like you would. Just as I would.” Hell, she probably had gotten the idea from them somehow over the years.

“How did she do it?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Influenced our bond somehow. However, I have a sneaking suspicion she didn’t know exactly what she was doing. Just that it might work.” He hissed as he felt more twinges and flair-ups in terms of pain.

“She’s smart.”

“Gets that from her dad,” he remarked.

“Dads,” Sam corrected with a soft smile. “You’re pretty smart, too.”

“Eh, only because I’m a highly superior race. You, however, had to work at it.”

When he caught the surprised blink, he frowned. Wait. What did he say? When Sam quickly turned away and headed for the door, he groaned in response, his head hanging.

Yeah. He was going to pay for that later. That was a hundred percent certain.


	9. When Doves Cry

After checking the usual areas for the kids, they ended up finding Maddie and Declan in the library with Dean, Cas, and Alec. The kids seemed to be coloring some sort of pictures with Dean kicking back with a beer in hand and Cas at his side. Both seemingly were supervising. The fathers nodded their silent greetings to one another as Gabe and Sam approached the large tables.

“So, what are we coloring?” Gabe asked, stepping up beside his daughter’s chair. It looked like a crude drawing of outside the bunker from what he could see.

She didn’t say a word.

“Maddie,” Sam quietly sighed. “Dad’s talking to you.”

A derisive snort echoed about the library that caused the two little boys to pause and glance at her incredulously with their fathers.

“Hey, Princess Bratty over there?” Dean called out sharply, leaning forward and setting his beer down. “How ‘bout we adopt a new attitude, yeah?”

She glanced at her uncle and huffed. Her head bent back towards her drawing a moment later as she resumed her coloring.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, her face intentionally turned away.

Gabe caught Dean’s scoff and waved the outrage on his behalf away. Pulling an empty chair on her other side, he silently turned his daughter towards him, so she’d be forced to look at him at least.

“Maddie, I know you’re upset.”

She crossed her arms in response and stubbornly turned her head away from him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry I was gone for so long this time. But I’m home now. All right? And I’m not going to leave again.”

Her mint-colored eyes darted to him briefly before she turned away again. Well, it was a start.

“I hurt you, and I’m sorry.”

She bit her bottom lip, clearly trying to hold onto her waning anger.

“Mads, I love you. Do you understand?”

“You—” She cut herself off and huffed furiously, glaring over his shoulder.

Gabe glanced at Sam, who moved closer and rested a hand on his shoulder. Yeah. He knew. His husband didn’t need to remind him. He knew he was being pushy. So, freaking sue him. He literally hated conflict. And seeing this? This brought back way too many bad memories for him. How could they have gone from the day in the kitchen with brownies to this in just three and a half months?

“Maddie,” he tried again. “I promise I’m not going—”

“You lie!”

“No,” he argued, not reacting to her voice raising. “I’m not.”

“Yes!”

“Maddie—”

“I saw you! I saw you, Daddy!” she declared, pointing with bright gold Grace-fueled angry eyes. “You lie!”

“You saw me doing _what_ exactly?” He caught her jaw tensing. Her entire body was rigid and seething at him. “Sweets, answer me. What exactly did you see?”

Had she somehow seen his time as the Trickster? Had she seen him Smurf Asmodeus? Or, Smurf, seen what had happened during his time of captivity with said AsmoSmurf? What had she seen that could have caused this?

“Madelyn Maeve, answer me.” He kept his voice even but firm. “What did you see?”

“You lied!” she growled back, glaring absolutely murderous.

“About what? What exactly did I lie about here?”

“Gabe,” Sam quietly murmured, pressing a hand firmer into Gabe’s shoulder. _Enough._

“You ‘greed when he said you were plannin’ to come home, but you weren’t gonna,” his daughter yelled, her eyes turning colder. “You were gonna stay up there. So, you lied!”

“I—wait—what?” Amber eyes widened. Vaguely, Gabe could remember a similar conversation, but there was no way— “Maddie, how do you know that?”

“I hears you!”

“You heard me? When?” His head then tilted as his eyes narrowed and stomach lurched in fear. “When I was up in Heaven? You heard me then?”

He felt Sam’s hand jerk but ignored it, more intrigued by their daughter somehow hearing a conversation that had taken place up in Heaven. He was certain he hadn’t said anything through Angel Radio, considering he wasn’t exactly a fan of it. So, how could she have heard him exactly? And what else had she heard exactly?

Declan sighed exaggeratedly then, elbowing his sister hard in the side and giving her a look.

She opened her mouth, but her older brother clearly was not going to have any more of her attitude tonight.

“No,” he frowned back. “Daddy says he’s sorry. So stop it and tell him, or I’ll do it.”

Maddie gasped dramatically. “Dec!”

Another little voice then heaved a loud exhale, not bothering to glance up from his page he was coloring. “They was eavesdropping like usual.”

“Alec!” Maddie and Declan both cried.

“They were _what_ now?”

Alec heaved another loud sigh, setting his colored pencil down dramatically. “We were playing when we knocked a book down. Declan grabbed it and—” The blue-eyed Nephilim then let out a yelp and immediately glared at the older boy a second later. “Hey!”

“Okay.” Gabe held up a hand. “Guys, in the interest of making this go faster, I’m just going to take punishment off the table over this snooping transgression of yours.”

“What?”

“Meaning you’re not going to be in trouble,” Dean replied, stepping in and thankfully backing Gabe up with this. “But only if you spill details.”

The three Nephilim glanced at one another before they all nodded.

“So, you were saying something about a book in the library?”

Declan hopped off his chair, silently heading over to a shelf before returning. Without a word, he handed the thin, worn book to Sam, who frowned as he grabbed it.

“This page,” quietly murmured the eldest of the three.

Gabe glanced over, watching as his husband turned to the specific page. When he caught a familiar Enochian symbol in the margins, he made an awkward sound, glancing at his brother and catching the puzzled blue eyes. Oh, this wasn’t good.

“What?”

Gabe and Cas continued their silent conversation through stares. They both shook their heads more than a few times, clearly arguing. They couldn’t tell their husbands. It was hundred percent taboo.

Sam answered Dean’s question, though. “It’s in Enochian. Um, something about bloodlines, maybe.” He then moved the book closer to Gabe’s face, breaking the angelic brothers’ intense staring contest finally. “Don’t suppose you’re going to share with those of us who aren’t fully fluent what exactly it is here we’re looking at, are you?”

“Uh . . . no?”

That seemed to be the safer option for him and Cas here as not to trip the spell on them.

“Gabriel!”

“We actually—that is—it’s . . . complicated, Sam,” Cas spoke up, squirming as well.

“Complicated?” Dean repeated slowly.

“Yes.” Gross understatement. If they explained, they’d be victims of Chuck’s wrath for sure.

“Our kids were eavesdropping—”

“Nuh-uh!” Alec argued with a huff of outrage. “They was. Not me!” He then cried out again, glaring at Declan. “Stop kicking me, butthead!”

“Stop tattling then! Or I’ll tell _your_ daddy all ‘bout—” A quick snap of fingers later, Declan’s eyes widened as Alec smiled proudly.

“Oh, for the love of—undo it! Now!” ordered Sam, glancing at his nephew as Gabe and Cas frowned at each other.

“But he—”

“Alec Huntley Winchester, now!” Cas finally said, giving his son a stern look while visibly turning away from Gabe. Their argument clearly wasn’t finished yet.

“Fine.” Another snap filled the air.

Sticking his tongue, Declan then redirected his full attention to his uncle. “Alec hurt Baby!”

“I did not!” Alec cried with wide, horrified blue eyes.

“Did too!”

Dean made an indistinguishable croaking noise, gripping the edge of the table. “What?” He turned to Cas, grabbing his arm in utter horror. “What’d he—angel, what’d he say?” The look on the eldest Winchester’s face was as if every nightmare came to fruition.

Before descending into a scene of absolute chaos that was clearly roaring in like a lion, Gabe folded his arms, glancing at his arguing son and nephew.

“What happened to Baby?” he asked with a disapproving frown, reminded of all the times he had stood before another pair of troublemakers who argued like cats and dogs in a similar fashion.

“Alec scratched it,” revealed Declan.

A horrified noise left Dean’s mouth as Sam and Cas sighed simultaneously.

“But I fix it,” Maddie remarked with a sassy eye roll.

“How?”

She shrugged. “I stares at it really hard, think, and it was gone.”

Using her Grace unsupervised— _awesome_. That was— _yep_. Smurf it, he really should have been here. So much could have gone wrong with her undoing it. She could have turned the precious Impala into a matchbox car, blew up the bunker, or any thousands of other things that could have gone wrong.

“All right. Well, could you maybe—I don’t know—stare at your daddy really hard, think, and turn him back possibly?” Sam asked.

Gabe groaned inwardly at his husband’s question. He really didn’t need her stumbling with her Grace again trying to undo it. He really didn’t. They’d need to figure this out together.

She glanced at Sam then, frowning before she glanced back. “But Daddy will go.”

“I won’t,” Gabe replied, grabbing her little hands. “I told Uncle Mikey I’m done up there. That I belong down here with you guys. With my real family.”

“No.” She shook her head, turning away dramatically.

“Mads, sweets, I’m not lying.” Yep. He was losing her again. “Hey, what about this? We ask Uncle Mikey to come down here. He’ll tell you the same thing I just did.” She huffed, clearly not believing him. “I’m staying. Okay? I belong here with you, with my family.”

“You’ll get bored ‘gain and then you leave. Just like before.”

“What?”

Did she honestly believe— He leaned forward, grabbing her face tenderly in his hands.

“Snuggle bunny,” he whispered, lowering his head until their foreheads were touching, “I didn’t go because I was bored down here.” He could never be bored down here with them.

“You didn’t?” she sniffled.

“Nope. Not even close.”

“Then why?”

“Because I summoned him,” replied a familiar voice from the head of the table behind Gabe.

Maddie gasped, pulling back from her father’s hold sharply to glance at the intruder.

“Hello.” Jack gave a little wave before he glanced towards Dean and Cas and smiled a little wider at them. He chuckled softly when Alec instantly raced full speed before launching himself. The two embraced one another warmly. A moment later, Jack quickly picked up the little Nephilim and settled him against his hip as if he had done it a million times before.

“You made Daddy go away?” she asked very quietly, her lower lip trembling slightly.

“Yes,” Jack replied with a curt nod. “But I didn’t mean for him to stay away for so long.”

Declan frowned at his sister’s side, watching their cousin approach.

“Daddy says he’s not going back,” announced the four-year-old boy whose eyes were full of suspicion and distrust.

“I’ve heard,” chirped the eldest Nephilim happily. A moment later, he set Alec back down in the chair the younger Nephilim had flown out of the second Jack had appeared.

“So, if you’re here to take him—” Maddie all but snarled.

“Whoa!” Gabe instantly turned his daughter back towards him, instantly noticing her wild golden eyes. Where had this possessive, BadSmurf streak of hers come from all of a sudden? He glanced at Sam, noticing his husband’s shocked look as well. At least it wasn’t just him then. “Calm yourself, sweets. I’m sure your cousin’s not dragging me anywhere.” And even if he was, Gabe really didn’t need his three-year-old daughter fighting his battles for him. That was for Smurf sure.

“I’m not,” Jack agreed with a nod. “Your dad is right where he belongs.”

Her eyes lost the feral gold again at a blink, returning to their usual mint green.

“Then why?” She sounded thankfully more like herself.

Jack grinned widely. “Would you believe me if I said I’m here to see you three?”

“No,” Declan and Maddie both answered as Alec gasped horrified at them.

“Fair enough.” The older Nephilim shrugged. “But it’s true.” He then smiled brightly at Sam. “May I have the book please?”

Nodding, Sam handed it over without a word, clearly curious.

“You read another page in here other than that one, didn’t you?” Jack asked Maddie.

“No!”

A quiet laugh fell from Jack’s lips, though. “Maddie.”

“Only dat one.” Her eyes were horribly shifty, though, which her fathers and uncles noticed.

“Your dads,” Jack stated abruptly, “they taught you about Santa, haven’t they?”

“Yes . . .”

Sam had at least. Gabriel outright refused, but he didn’t step in to stop it either.

“Think of me as Santa then,” Jack declared.

All three kids yelled back, though, “You’re not Santa!”

Jack’s head tilted slightly. “Why not?” All the fathers cringed viciously.

“Because Santa’s old like Grandpa!”

Sam and Dean instantly looked at one another in confusion as the angels blinked.

“Like . . . _Grandpa_?”

All four fathers secretly chanted in their heads, ‘Please not Chuck. Please not Chuck.’

“Yes, Daddy,” Maddie drawled in utter exasperation with Sam. “Grandpa Bobby. Duh.”

“Oh.”

Right. Bobby. Well, Apocalypse World!Bobby, but he was Bobby enough these days for them.

“Yeah. Better not let the pipsqueak near him if I were you,” Dean remarked, shaking his head as he seemed to have a better handle of himself again. Though, it went without saying he’d likely be inspecting the damage later after this crisis was handled.

Sighing quietly, Jack then turned to Sam and Gabriel. “Your daughter read page 27 as well.”

Gabe instantly snatched the book, leafing to the specific page. She did _what_?

“She didn’t understand what she was reading of course. She just tried to read the words aloud.”

Amber eyes then caught the smeared drop of blood at the bottom of the page, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat at the sight. She had likely accidentally given herself a papercut, but it would have been enough to trigger the spell unfortunately.

“You can undo it, right?” he asked quietly, glancing at his nephew. His heart slammed against his ribs in obvious fear and dread. Blood spells were always tricky. Because if Jack couldn’t . . . The second blue eyes fell, Gabe wanted to vomit, somehow by some miracle resisting it.

“Sadly, I can’t,” his nephew answered somberly. “Not without causing permanent damage. However, I believe she can learn to live with this.”

Live with it? Gabe’s eyes flicked over to his nephew furiously. Live with it?! He could barely live with it most days. Sam could barely live with it! Their whole damn family could barely live with trauma! How in the Smurfin’ Smurf Smurf was their Smurfin’ three-year-old supposed to ‘live with it?’

“Gabe?” Sam asked hesitantly, grabbing his arm.

“You have my father’s powers, Jack.”

“I’m aware.”

“So, undo it,” he growled, curling his blue hands into fists at his side.

“As I said—”

“Smurf what you said!” he snarled, feeling his chest tightening. “Fix it! Now!” _Not Maddie._

“I can’t.”

“Please,” he pleaded, his voice cracking as he felt his emotions swirl inside. “Jack, _please_.”

His nephew turned away, though, and knelt in front of her. He held his hands out, waiting patiently for her to take them. Her eyes flicked to his hands briefly before her frown deepened.

“Maddie?”

“Yeah?”

“You love your dad very much, don’t you?”

She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes falling back to the floor as her lashes fluttered closed.

“And you wanted him home so desperately that you thought if the book could let you hear him, then it could also let you bring him back home, too. Because you recognized the symbol on the page.”

“Uh-huh,” she mumbled, her lower lip trembling.

Gabe’s tongue ran lightly over his lips to rewet them. _Oh, little one._ He pulled her gently into his arms, grateful she didn’t fight him this time. He wished he could take away all the horror she had seen, all the despair, all the pain, but he knew he couldn’t. If Jack couldn’t, he definitely couldn’t.

But he could give hugs. He could wrap her up and love her so Smurfin’ much that she’d grow tired of him. He could give her forehead kisses and butterfly ones, too. He could give her all his love, all his strength, whatever she needed. He’d give it all to her if it’d help.

“I’m sorry,” she cried into the crook of his neck.

“I know,” he murmured, rubbing his daughter’s back. “I know, baby girl.” He was sorry, too. He slowly pulled back, gently cupping her face as she cried. “I love you so much.” He used the sides of his thumbs to wipe away her tears. “You know that, right?”

Her head nodded jerkily against him as more fat tears streamed down her reddening cheeks.

“And your daddy loves you just as much as I do. And your brother loves you, too. And your uncles and cousins. And all the rest of our hodgepodge misfit found family. And we’re going to be okay, Mads. We are.” He needed her to hear that. To know it in her heart. “We’re going to get over this little hiccup, and we’re going to look back eventually on this as a distant memory. That’s it. I promise.” If it were the last Smurf thing he could do, he would make sure he’d keep that promise for her.

“Daddy . . .”

“I know.” He didn’t really, though. He knew what she did, sure. What she accidentally stumbled across. But he didn’t _really_ know. He couldn’t. That spell was highly personalized to the caster.

“I just wanted you home,” she sobbed, her body shuddering with despair.

“I know,” he repeated, sniffling and then clearing his throat quietly. Tears stung in his eyes, but he refused to break his hold on her. “I know, snuggle bug.”

“You were gone,” she said trembling. “after promisin’ we . . . we’d . . .”

He had broken so many promises. How could she ever take his word again? Honestly?

“You promised, and then . . . then you was mad . . . and you left.”

“I’m so sorry, Maddie,” he whispered, unsure what he could have been upset over.

More tears streamed down her cheeks as she cried. “I’ll be good. Promise. I’ll be good this time, Daddy,” she pleaded, breaking his heart more. “Please don’t go.” She clutched him tighter. “Please . . .”

“Oh, sweets!” He shook his head fiercely. Swallowing harshly back his emotions and memories, he pushed through all of it. He needed her to know he hadn’t left because of her. “You could never do anything that’d make me leave. Never! Or ever make me stop loving you.” He leaned forward, laughing through watery whiskey eyes. “I love for forever and always, so—hate to break it to you, kiddo—but you’re stuck with me for all of eternity.”

“Promise?”

He nodded with another tearful laugh, lifting a pinky up to hook hers. “Pinky promise.” When she giggled tearfully, he laughed harder, closing his eyes when she wrapped her arms around him again.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled into his ear as she hugged him tightly.

“I know. Me too.” _Me too . . ._


	10. Sweet Dreams

Glancing in the mirror, Gabe caught his daughter’s light green eyes watching him curiously. He could hear Sam and Declan talking quietly behind them about something he was fairly certain a four-year-old would find absolutely dull, but he said nothing. When he heard the loud yawn from his son a second later, he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snickering. Called it.

“Tired already?” Sam asked with an obvious smile in his voice.

 _More like bored to death, moose,_ Gabe thought silently.

“Daddy?” Maddie said quietly from where she was sitting in her sassy red panda pjs, watching him as if he was the most interesting person in the room.

Turning around slowly, he raised a brow, pausing with the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

“What are you doing?” she asked, squinting in obvious confusion.

Sam glanced at him and laughed quietly. “He’s brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed like we did earlier.”

“Why?”

“Because Daddy eats a lot of junk food, and his teeth are going to rot otherwise.”

Gabe rolled his eyes and turned back. _Ha-ha, Smurfhole._

“But why?”

“Because Daddy relies on his Grace too much to take proper—”

Grateful his two minutes were finally up, he spit the faintly minty toothpaste hard into the sink and turned around, not bothering to wipe the remnants away from his lips.

“Love you too, Sam-heart,” he muttered, meeting Sam’s amused eyes. He then glanced at their daughter who clearly was very lost in this conversation. “Your daddy is being a Smurf tonight.”

“But you’re the Smurf.”

Sam burst out laughing.

“Not what—” Gabe sighed heavily. “What I’m saying, sweets, is that your dad is being extra naughty tonight.” Likely Sam’s way of offering Maddie a lighthearted distraction to focus on.

“Oh!” Maddie nodded. “I get it now.”

“Good.” He turned back to the sink, bending over and cupping some water to rinse his mouth out. He had already changed for bed earlier with the kids. So, all that had been left was brushing his stupid teeth, which Sam had practically nagged him to death about doing with his ‘We need to set a good example for our kids’ speech. As if it mattered if he took care of his teeth or not. His Grace would replenish in a few days, and he wouldn’t need to do it anymore. But he surrendered, giving in as usual.

“You were saying Daddy’s being a _shit_ tonight!”

Gabe’s head jerked up quick, narrowly missing the edge of the mirror, before he whirled around towards his daughter with wide eyes. Oh, Smurf-it!

She was so proud of herself, too. “Uncle Dean says it about Alec and Dec all the time.”

“I’m sure,” he remarked with a sigh. “Don’t say Smurf, though.”

“I didn’t say Smurf. I said—” Sam’s hand immediately covered their daughter’s mouth.

“Don’t say _that_ word. In fact, don’t say any adult words you hear from us. Got it?”

“But you guys have, like, lots of adult words!” Declan groaned, throwing his hands up.

“We don’t have that many,” Sam scoffed before he then glanced at Gabe. Wait. Did they?

How the Smurf should he know? Everything he tried to say for emphasize got Smurf-censored.

“Daddy?”

Gabe frowned again, noticing Sam had lowered his hand from her mouth.

“Yeah, Mads?”

“Do you think vampires brush their teeth?”

He blinked. Okay. Random question time. He was down for that. If only for the fact it changed the topic again.

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Especially vampires. They need all their teeth.” He brushed off Sam’s Smurfy look. What? They did. Vampires had a lot of teeth.

“But angels don’t brush their teeths. _You_ don’t,” Maddie pointed out. “So, why do we?”

Smurf three-year-old logic for the win.

“Because you’re both little still.” At least that sounded like a good enough reason.

“But we have Grace and stuff, too,” Declan joined in, arguing.

“You do, but it’s not enough yet.” When Sam’s head snapped towards him, Gabe suppressed a wince. Yeah, okay, so that was a blatant lie. But what was he supposed to say? That they forced the kids to brush their teeth just so he and Sam could pretend Maddie and Declan were like any other normal human children? As if their kids would understand that. It would only lead to more questions and snowball from there unfortunately.

“Okay, so, when we’re your age—”

“You will never get to be my age,” he remarked lightly. He then forced a smile when the kids’ eyes widened. “I’m older than dirt, guys. Older than this planet even. This universe.” He caught their amazement and continued. “When Chuck popped me into existence, it was just Chuck, my aunt, and my brothers. There were no stars. There were no planets. It was just dark and cold and empty.”

“Were you sad?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, walking back. He smiled when the kids instantly scrambled to the middle of the bed. “We all good? No one has to Smurf— _oh for the love of_ —Sam,” he sighed, closing his eyes as he tried to brush aside his annoyance. That was a bodily function he had said, and a proper decent word of it too. It shouldn’t have been censored like that.

“Nobody has to go to the bathroom, right?” his husband asked quietly. “If you do, speak now or forever hold your pee.” Their little ones giggled at the obvious joke, shaking their heads. “Think we’re safe.” Hazel eyes flicked down to his boxers for a moment then before flicking back up with a head shake and an eye roll.

What? Gabe thought his boxers were pretty awesome tonight. He was wearing the ones Sam had given him for Christmas a few years back that said, ‘Want to see a trick?’ It wasn’t as if the kids would understand. Not yet at least.

He slid into bed a moment later, grabbing his half of the sheets with Sam before both fathers yanked up to cocoon them all together. He watched his husband roll back and lean towards the lamp.

“All right, my winged brats.” They instantly glanced up. “Lights out in three, two, one.”

Sam switched off the lights then, plunging them into instant darkness save for the faint light of the hallway filtering in from the slots in the door.

Gabe immediately felt Maddie press herself against him in response, seeking him out for comfort. When he and Sam gently reached across the kids and rested their hands on their hips as Gabe’s injured wing curled and draped over all of them, he felt Maddie relax a bit. Sam was right again. It was helping her a bit to be near them. Now, if she slept peacefully and didn’t dream whatever horrific bad dream the spell forced her to live through night after night, that’d be the real question.

“Daddy?”

Both let out a soft laugh and waited. They should have known better.

“What about werewolves?”

“What about them?”

She wiggled against him then, clearly trying to get more comfortable and as a result digging her bony shoulder into him against his sore chest. Somehow, he was able to keep from reacting to the pain that flared up. “Do you think they brush their teeth?”

“Yes.” He instantly felt Sam’s light tap against his hip.

“What about—”

“Everyone brushes their teeth, Maddie.”

“Even witches?”

“Even witches,” he murmured, thinking of Rowena for a brief second.

She was silent then, which made Gabe glance across to his husband. No way they were getting off that easy. As the silence stretched on, they started to find their eyes slowly closing. Judging by the deep breathing their son was already doing, they knew Declan was already out and fast asleep.

“Daddy?” Maddie whispered so low Gabe almost had to crane his head down to hear her.

“I’m here,” Gabe whispered back.

“Good.”

“Close your eyes and sleep, brat. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“On my honor,” he mumbled, bringing his chin down slightly as she tucked herself in.

“What honor?” Sam teased softly, snickering. He snorted when Gabe smacked his side in response. “Love you, corgi.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. Someone was being naughty tonight, and for once it wasn’t him. “Got a funny way of showing it, moose,” he huffed. “Now, go to sleep. Both of you.”

“I think Daddy’s cranky tonight,” murmured his husband, likely grinning from ear to ear. “What do you think, sweetheart?”

“Shh,” Maddie shushed loudly, causing Declan to huff out his irritation and flop over onto his other side to escape them.

“Oh. Okay,” Sam replied in a hush. “Shutting up.”

They all settled in then, eyes closing finally. Only the sounds of their breathing and light noise from the register were heard then for several minutes.

“Daddy?”

“Still here,” he mumbled, having nearly fallen asleep this time.

“Love you,” she whispered.

“Love you too, brat. Now, close your eyes and sleep.”

“Kay.”

He waited for half a moment. She was going to say something. That was obvious. Right about the time he’d fall asleep, she’d say something again. He glanced at Sam after a few more moments passed in silence. When he felt her finally slacken against him several minutes later and heard her breathing turn into the telltale signs of her sleeping, he let out the breath he had been holding.

Only then did he too fall asleep, snuggling with his family.


	11. Blue Christmas

Silver-and-gold garland and multicolored Christmas lights were wrapped around the banister leading down into the war room. More twinkling lights outlined panels and entryways, bathing the room in a warm, loving glow. And above, centered in the middle of entryways every now and then was either some mistletoe or boughs of holly. This continued throughout the entire bunker with an exceptionally large, decorated Christmas tree in the library with brightly colored wrapped presents underneath and a non-descript angel tree topper above.

It had literally taken all of them and all day for that matter to finish, but somehow by the skin of their teeth they had. The families stood back, appraising their work with proud smiles and wide grins. The bunker truly did look absolutely magnificent. Almost as beautiful as when Mrs. Butters had been around in fact. A fact Dean had happily announced much to the annoyance of the angelic fathers who hadn’t been there at the time. It finally looked like Christmas in the bunker.

“All right. Now that that’s done,” Dean said with a chuckle, wiping his hands. “Who’s hungry?”

“Me! Me!” yelled out the choir of little Nephilim voices.

“That’s what I thought. Well, come on then. Let’s go get some grub.” He herded all towards the door, pausing when Sam and Gabe hadn’t followed. “Hey, lovebirds in the back. You comin’?”

“In a minute,” Gabe quietly stated, his hand on his husband’s arm.

“All right.” Dean glanced at his brother who nodded that everything was okay before Dean shrugged and turned back. “More for us then,” he remarked, motioning for the kids to head off towards the kitchen. He and Cas quickly trailed after and disappeared into the hallway a moment later.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked once they were alone.

“I’ve been doing some thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” his husband teased, turning towards him. “Never a good sign when you think.”

“Hilarious.”

“Not Smurfing hilarious?” he chuckled at the glare. “Hey, I thought it was pretty good.”

Gabe rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Sam.”

“Fine.” His husband’s tone turned a bit more serious but still light. “What’s going on?”

He nodded and paused as he considered his words. He had literally been thinking about it nonstop since this morning at breakfast when he had glanced across the table to Sam. His husband had been smiling faintly as he wiped their daughter’s mouth clean as she once again smeared syrup all over. What had started as a little wiggling idea quickly turned into a full-blown one as they all decorated the bunker later, catching the little moments he had missed and noticing Sam’s frequent instinct to jump in and help the kids instead of delegating. And now? Now he was positive they could find a way to do this. They just had to be on the same page first. As it was, he supposed he could have been totally mistaken, and it wasn’t—but if it was—then—

“It hit me earlier all you’ve given up over the years.”

“What?” Sam blinked, pulling back slightly.

Gabe winced, scratching at his beard in extreme awkwardness. “Okay, so that was—” Yeah, that didn’t sound quite as well as he was thinking it would. “Sorry. Um, what I’m trying to say is—” He caught the hazel eyes narrowing even more. “Wow. This went so much easier in my head actually,” he admitted, blowing out a large exhale. He was making this ten times worse than what it was.

“What was?” Sam then took a step closer, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Your entire life you’ve been forced to—”

“Okay, _what_?” His husband laughed in absolute bewilderment. “Where the hell is this coming from all of a sudden?”

“I just, I . . .” He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “I’m not making myself clear. Am I?”

“Not unless you consider mud clear,” Sam remarked dryly, grabbing his hands and giving them a squeeze for strength and love. “But I’m going to assume you’re thinking I’m unhappy about our life for some strange reason, and, well, babe, hate to say it, but you’ve now become the Dumbass Smurf.”

“Well, I’ve been told my ass is my best feature,” he drawled, latching onto the easy joke.

“Eh,” his husband shrugged, pulling Gabe closer and wrapping his arms around Gabe’s waist, “I can think of something better.”

“Oh?” Sam kept giving him an out, kept giving him easy distractions to latch onto if he needed. He stared deep into his husband’s eyes, wishing he could just let it go but he couldn’t. Not this time. He had let it go too many times before. He needed to say the words if only so that it was finally out there between them and could be discussed for once instead of just swept aside as usual.

“All right.” His husband’s strong arms pulled him closer until they were pressed firmly against one another. “Why are you thinking I’m not happy?” he asked, letting the illusion slip away and taking away the offered outs that were only delaying things. “And if you so help me mention those three and half months again, I’m going to take your Christmas surprise off the table right now.”

“I don’t know,” Gabe mumbled, shrugging as he brushed off the mention of Christmas again. “It’s not that I think you’re necessarily unhappy now. Just you’ve given up a lot. Forced to play parts thrust onto you by others, and one of those is being—” A finger to his lips hushed him instantly.

“Yeah, I’m going to stop you right there,” Sam murmured with a heavy sigh. “Listen. I wouldn’t change a damn thing. I wouldn’t. We have two beautiful children. We have someone who can step in with the kids so we can deal with things right away instead of letting it fester and, you know, _other reasons_.” He smiled as he ground their groins together lightly to emphasize his point. “I’m happy. Really. So, whatever you’re thinking, whatever you think you know, it’s wrong.” He pulled a hand back and gently pushed Gabe’s head up so their eyes met. “I get to wake up every morning now next to you. And we get to spend all day with our kids, watching them grow up, hearing their silly stories, answering their nonstop off-the-wall questions, hearing them complain how I make them eat healthy food, and then tucking them in just to do it all again the next day. What more do you think I need?”

“You wanted to be a lawyer,” Gabe replied quietly, “to help people before everything went belly up and you had to put aside all of that for the entire world.”

“Yeah,” his husband said dryly. “I helped enough people all things considered over the years. So, I think I’m allowed to be selfish now and just be with my family. Don’t you?”

“Well, yes, but—”

Sam chuckled lightly before he shook his head. “You’re adorable.”

“What?”

“You’re absolutely adorable right now.”

Gabe frowned, unsure if that was meant to be sarcastic or not.

“I appreciate the sentiment. I do. Really. And it’s incredibly sweet of you to be thinking about that, but I’m not that Sam anymore. I’ve gone through too much to be him.” His husband shrugged flippantly. “Being a lawyer? Now? After a lifetime of hunting monsters with my brother and stopping apocalypses and everything? Yeah, well, in the words of our son,” he blew a raspberry, “no thanks.”

Chuckling, Gabe shook his head. Who was this man even anymore? And how was it possible he was falling even more for his husband after all these years?

“I get to have my white-picket happily ever after ending after years of thinking it just wasn’t going to be in the cards for me ever. I get to have that apple pie life now Dean always wanted me to have. That normality I desperately craved. And that’s all I really need. In other words, to make sure there isn’t a shred of doubt in your mind, read my lips.” He bent down slightly so they were eyelevel with one another. “I love you and our crazy chaotic life together. And I especially love our little duo of troublemakers. I wouldn’t want anything else but this life.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.” Sam smiled widely like a warm summer day. “I’m not that guy anymore. Honest.” His broad shoulders raised and lowered with a headshake. “I’m now Sam Winchester, husband of the original mischievous little shit up in Heaven and father to two little hellions who are going to end up some day giving me a heart attack with their antics. And that’s all I need. It’s all I ever needed I think.”

“Well, now, I feel like a Smurfhole.”

His husband snorted, rolling his eyes. “What else is new? I mean, the second you’re not an asshole, I legit start to worry. Hell, that’s probably how I’d know a monster was impersonating you.”

“You’re a little smartSmurf.”

“Thank you,” drawled his husband with sparkling, amused eyes. “I’ve been told I’m rather intelligent sometimes.”

Amber eyes rolled dramatically. “We should go before Maddie decides I’m leaving again.”

“Yeah. We should.” They split apart, quickly linking hands again. Having walked several steps, they had just crossed the threshold into the corridor when Sam instantly stopped and pressed a free hand to Gabe’s chest. “Wait. Shit!” Hazel eyes widened. “I just remembered.”

“Okay?” Yeah, that wasn’t cryptic at all. “Remembered what?” That tomorrow was trash day? That Christmas was in a few days? That they still needed to figure out what they were going to make for the Christmas get together that Gabe was a hundred percent not stressing about in the slightest? That they needed to fill up the Charger?

“Jody.” Sam groaned loudly, shaking his head. “She wanted a family Christmas card this year from us. Remember? Dean and Cas already sent theirs. I was waiting until you were home again.”

“What?” He was telling Gabe this now of all times? “You’re joking.” He was still a Smurfin’ Smurf for Smurf’s sake! Smurf no!

“I’m not.”

“But it won’t wear off until next week sometime!” At least that was the current line of thinking from Michael and Jack. “I’m going to be a Smurf! No! No, Sam! Absolutely Smurfing not!” Over his dead body was he going to be a Smurf in that Smurfing card!

“What am I supposed to tell her? ‘Sorry, Jody, we can’t. Maybe next year. All our love.”

“Yes, Sam. Exactly that!” he huffed.

“This is Jody, Gabe!”

“I don’t care if it’s Smurfin’ Auntie Amara herself. No! I am not going to—no. Absolutely not. I . . .” He groaned, giving Sam reverse puppy dog eyes pleading. “Saaaaam! You know what’s going to happen once she sees that card. You know!”

“It’s Jody.”

“Who is friends with Donna and Claire and Bobby.”

“So?”

“Seriously?” he remarked. “Jody, Donna, Claire, Bobby!” Why wasn’t Sam getting it?

“Again, not seeing the problem.”

“They’re going to plaster it everywhere!”

“Yeah, probably,” Sam agreed. “Not to mention, Dean probably will get it blown up into a huge poster size and hang it in our room at some point.”

Gabe stared at the love of his life, quelling the kneejerk reaction of punching his moose somehow. “That’s not helping.” At all.

“Again, we return to my earlier point. So what?”

“I’m a Smurf, Sam!” he growled, keeping his voice low so the others in the kitchen didn’t hear their domestic squabble. “I’ll ruin that card, not to mention Christmas.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?”

“Instead of seeing—”

“All right. Stop!” Sam scoffed. “You being blue with a white beard is not going to ruin our Christmas. For that matter, who cares about a silly card between friends and family? It’s not like we’re posting it online like some Instagram influencer couple.”

With absolute zero control over his mouth yet again, the depowered archangel blurted out, “Wait. How do you know about Insta?”

Sam pulled his hands back sharply at once, folding them across his chest. “No, the question here is how _you_ know about it.”

“They’ve got cute Sabriel fanart,” Gabe remarked offhandedly, waving a hand dismissively. “But seriously how do you know about it?”

“I use the Internet, and I’m human.”

“Wait. Do you have an account then?”

“Gabe!” Sam huffed. “Focus!”

“I am focused! What’s your Insta handle?” And why the Smurf weren’t they connected?

“What’s yours?” deadpanned back his husband.

“CorgiLovesHisMoose.”

Sam snorted. “I’m surprised it’s not ‘TricksterLovesHisMoose.”

“I tried for that one. It was already taken.” When his husband’s mouth dropped, Gabe sighed, waving a hand. “These influencers are really quick at these sorts of things, okay? But I’m learning.”

Brows disappeared into his hairline. “I’m sorry, _what_?”

“Now who needs to focus?” remarked Gabe.

“Where the hell— _who_ taught you to use Instagram?”

“Jack.”

“Jack . . .” Sam seemed floored by that for some reason. “Where did he learn it?”

“Claire, I think. I don’t know.” Who cared, he wanted to say.

“I . . . I don’t even know what to say here.”

“I don’t post on it a lot.”

“What do you post exactly?”

“Flowers. And stuff.”

“What sort of stuff?”

“Sometimes food we’re having. In other words, I’m a bit of a foodie. But it’s mostly flowers. Sometimes it’s motorcycles. Or muscle cars. Occasionally it’s just a sunset pic of you and the kids as shadowy blobs. I don’t know. Things I think are beautiful and worth taking a picture. You know, stuff.”

“How many people follow you?”

“I don’t know.” He never paid attention to that nonsense. He wasn’t doing to it to become popular. “I only use it so I can always find my pics easily afterwards. It’s like they’re in the cloud or however that phrase goes.”

“So, what you’re saying here is that you know how to post on Instagram, but you don’t know how to stop Netflix so it doesn’t keep running with no one watching?”

“Well, Insta’s not complicated.” Anyone could do it. It was rather foolproof he found. “It asked to link up with my phone after installing, so I obviously clicked ‘Yes.’ It practically does it without me having to do anything now.”

His husband’s head tilted slightly. “Gabe?”

Amber eyes rolled. Oh, here Sam went. This was hardly the most tragic thing in the world. Seriously. Not like being a Smurf for the family Christmas card was.

“Haven’t you taken pics of us before?” Sam made a wild gesture with his hands that Gabe frowned at. “You know, _risqué_ pics?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a haphazard shrug. He had asked permission first, though, before he ever took the first one of his husband and his gorgeous body. “But I don’t ever open the Insta app afterwards so we’re safe.” Why was Sam freaking out so much over this? He wasn’t Cassie here. He could use tech rather proficiently he thought. He did not fall under the stereotypical clueless angel. Honestly.

Hazel eyes stared at him for a moment before Sam quickly dug into his back jeans pocket, pulling his phone out a moment later.

Gabe leaned closer, frowning when he saw Sam open up a familiar app.

“Hey!” he huffed, glaring. “I thought you said you didn’t have an account?”

“I don’t,” Sam mumbled, typing in Gabe’s Instagram handle. “Claire made this one so we could see photos sometimes of her, Jody, Donna, and the rest of the girls. Like a sort of check in, I guess.”

Made sense. It was similar to how people bought those Wi-Fi-enabled digital photo frames and gave it to a loved one who lived far away. Not that he knew anything about that whatsoever really.

A second later, Gabe felt his stomach roll. “Oh my SMURF!” Sam glanced at him and then back at the photos on the screen. “But—no!—I didn’t open the app!” That shouldn’t have been possible. He made sure not to open it after taking them. There should have been no way that had uploaded. None.

“Yeah, I don’t think that really matters here.” Sam then laughed harshly, holding his phone up to show a picture of a very nude lower half shot of Gabe. “Oh, yeah. I mean . . . really love this one, babe. Going to put this one up right next to Dean’s poster of our Christmas card. Definitely.” His husband then laughed harder before he showed another photo that was very NSFW to say the least. “Oh. Wow! Yeah . . . I think you really nailed our relationship here with this one.”

Gabe winced violently, hanging his head. “So, uh, Christmas Card for Jody, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam said with pinched lips and unamused smile complete with the sassy head tilt. “Without a doubt.”

“Coolio.”

“And you’re deleting that app.”

“Got it.” He hoped he could at least save some of the photos somehow back to his phone. Maybe he’d ask either Jack or break down and ask Claire later. He had taken some really good ones.

“Tonight.”

“Understood one hundred percent.”

“And you’re going to be dressed like Papa Smurf for the photo, too.”

“Sam!” When his husband swiped through even more photos of them in compromising situations that were damn delicious if it had only been just for their eyes, Gabe grimaced and glanced down guiltily. “Will do. Anything else?”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Got it.” He forced a smile, wanting to die inside. He really hadn’t meant to upload those. They were just supposed to be for their eyes only, mainly his. “You have to admit. I think I really got your—okay. Yep. Shutting up.” He hung his head instantly when he saw the dreaded rare murderous bitchface directed at him. “Sorry.” Sometimes his husband was downright scary when he was furious.

Glancing back at his phone, though, Sam shook his head. “Jesus. How many photos did you take the other— _ohhhh_ . . .” He let out a dark, hollow laugh. “Okay then. There’s video, too?”

“What?” Gabe leaned forward with wide eyes. “I, uh, oh dear.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “For the record, I didn’t mean to record that one.” He absolutely did not mean to record that one. He still could hear the lecture he got the last time Sam had found his little vids.

“Uh-huh.”

“Honest. I really didn’t—wait . . .” He leaned closer with narrowed eyes. “Does that say a million views?” He had hit a million views?

“So help me, Gabriel—”

“No! No it’s . . . I just . . . I never got that many views before on anything.”

“You uploaded porn!” huffed his husband, swiping past and through more photos still. “Free porn at that! What did you—” Sam’s voice cut out a second later.

“What?” He leaned forward again and tilted his head with an exaggerated sigh. “What did I do this time?” He then saw the screen. “Oh.” He liked that photo the best.

It was of Sam and the kids sleeping in the early morning hours. That had been one of his first photos he had uploaded. Gabe had cropped it in such a way no one could see Sam’s face (as the kids were already buried in Sam’s bare chest and partially obscured), but it was obvious from the photo it was a sexy man with two adorable toddlers sleeping in bed. Gabe had been rather proud of that one. In fact, it was one of Sam’s wrapped Christmas gifts under the tree in a silver picture frame made from a melted down Enochian blade if he were honest.

“I meant to post that one.”

“So I see.” There was a small blurb above the photo that said, ‘My whole world’ with a simple heart emoji after it. Sam sighed softly, closing out of the app and pocketing his phone again. “Remove the porn ones, but . . . just please don’t let this happen again.”

“Really?” He didn’t have to get rid of Instagram?

“Yeah. The sweet moments, those ones are definitely good.” Sam glanced at him then. “And if it’s something you enjoy doing, then . . . as long as it’s not” he shrugged “porn like you’ve got on there now, then go for it.”

Because he was Gabe and absolutely couldn’t help himself, he asked, “What about thirst traps?”

“We’ll talk about it. _Later_.” Lacing their fingers back together, his husband rubbed his thumb over the glistening golden ring, which caused the Enochian to glow more as the trapped Grace reacted.

Honey-colored eyes watched the flickering ethereal glow silently. He could almost feel familiar power awakening as it responded to the Grace inside his ring that answered to the yearning soul.

It was amazing to think how he had come up with that design all on his own. It had been brilliant, and the fact he had Dean and Cas help was just icing on the cake honestly.

He could remember telling the two about his brainchild and them staring back for several moments before Dean muttered a quiet ‘Son of a bitch’ and pulled Gabe in for an unexpected hug, announcing he was in. Two days later, they melted down Gabe’s archangel blade and forged the rings. Cas had then helped by etching in the Enochian phrases later on before Gabe added his final touches—letting his Grace seep into both with one last twist as well.

Etched onto his band was the Enochian phrase “Ol trian paid dobix lap g congamphlgh,” which roughly translated to “I will always fall for your soul.” And on Sam’s band was “Ol trian forever torzu lap g grace,” which translated roughly to “I will forever rise for your grace.” And when the rings were on top of one another, the Enochian phrases of both rings shifted into “Gohed boaluahe od Ulcinin,” which meant “Eternal love and happiness found in Paradise.”

Balthazar had called Gabe sappy over the phrases but seeing the recognition in Sam’s eyes when his husband had finally translated it a few months after they married—totally worth it.

“Gabe?”

“Yeah?” He pulled himself from his thoughts, glancing at his husband.

Hazel eyes flicked to him before hesitantly darting away again. Okay . . . that was . . . new.

“Sam?” What was his beautiful, Asgardian-like warrior thinking so intently about, he wondered.

“I just had a stupid idea.”

Gabe blinked, frowning slightly. “Okay?” Sometimes stupid ideas ended up being the best ones in his opinion. Not to mention, a certain pair of Winchesters were famous for averting apocalypses with their own special brand of dumb ideas that should never have worked but did. However, he clearly knew better than to say that. His eyes trailed over his husband’s face, trying to assess what exactly Sam was thinking here so he’d know how to react appropriately. “What is it?”

“We really shouldn’t, like, really shouldn’t, but, well,” Sam shrugged lightly, not making a bit of sense and blushing deeply as if ashamed by whatever he was thinking, which only made Gabe more curious. “It’s just, well, keeping in mind our kids can’t really go to school since we’d be getting called there all the time for whatever trouble they caused this time, I was just thinking things,” he finished lamely, finally meeting Gabe’s gaze.

“All right.” He was clearly missing several somethings here, but he didn’t want Sam to close himself off, so he did his best to ignore every instinct that screamed inside. “What sort of things?”

Sam’s eyes slid further from his for half a second before they flitted back. Gabe watched the blush deepen, finding himself in a state of obvious confusion. All right. What exactly was that look all about? And why was he feeling oddly flustered by it?

“I was thinking about earlier.”

His head tilted. “Earlier?”

“When Maddie decided to,” Sam made a tight face “ _influence_ us.”

“Oh.” Gabe nodded slowly, rubbing his bearded jaw. “Yeah, you know I’ll talk to her about—”

“No!” Sam winced at how harsh he sounded before he tried again. “No. That’s not it.”

Amber blinked hard instantly. “ . . . okay?” Yep, he was officially lost. Then what was it?

“It’s silly, I know, but my mind was trying to figure out her three-year-old logic behind it. Why specifically _that_ of all things?”

“Obviously it’s because I’m fairly obvious with how I can’t resist you and your overall sexiness and am addicted to you.”

His husband snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, anyway, it got me thinking about our relationship. And that led me down another path. And eventually I came to the stupid idea.”

“All right. And that is what exactly?”

“A witch’s spell led to Declan.”

Gabe nodded. “Ah, yes, the good ol’ fuck or die spell. I remember that one fondly.” He chuckled when his husband’s blush darkened more, deciding to have pity and not make it worse like usual.

“And Maddie was a, well, way too many margaritas night.”

“Eh, actually, I think it was more the Patron shots that did us in but go on.”

“What do you think about—” Sam then stopped himself, glancing down and dragging a hand across the back of his neck before he let out a huge exhale. “We both talked about having a bunch of kids after Declan and Maddie came along so I was sort of wondering if maybe you’d, you know?” He shrugged his broad shoulders awkwardly.

“Sam,” his voice dropped slightly into a low rumble, catching the surprise and widening of the maddening hazel, “are you asking to put a bun in my oven again?”

His husband immediately covered his face and glanced away, his cheeks tinged scarlet. “You are literally the worst.”

“Yep, but that’s why you love me so much. Don’t deny it.” He chuckled quietly, giving his husband’s so-called bad idea some serious consideration as he watched the blush spread more. “So, you’re thinking we should try to have another little hellion but on purpose this time, hmm, Sam-stud?” He nodded slowly. “Not bad.” His lip protruded out slightly in appreciation of it. “Not bad at all.”

He wasn’t opposed to it at all. Sam was right after all. They had both discussed at length of having a big family eventually. And most importantly agreed they wanted more kids eventually. The way they had ended it, though, was practically a resounding yes to more kids but not sure on the when. They just never returned to that conversation unfortunately. However, the prospect of actively trying for another kid? Yeah, he was definitely in. Always.

“The worst,” Sam muttered under his breath, keeping his eyes from Gabe’s.

He loved how gorgeous his husband was all bothered like this. It was adorable. It was such a human reaction. “We’d have to wait until I’m at full strength of course, though. Otherwise, the whole angelic/omega transformation—”

“Gabe!”

“What? I’m just pointing out the obvious,” he replied, holding his hands up defensively. “I’m in a male vessel, and, well, forgive me here as I’m just an angel—”

“Just . . . just stop. _Please_?” Sam hung his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I remember the logistics and everything. It wasn’t _that_ long ago.”

“Three years.”

“Yeah.” Hazel eyes darted to him instantly. “Thanks. I know how old our daughter is.”

“I’m thinking tomorrow or maybe even later today I should have enough Grace to remove the blue enough at least to make me just a bearded—”

“For the love of— _Gabriel_ ,” Sam groaned, giving him a hard look.

“What? Just giving you a timeline. I know how much you enjoy—”

“I will hurt you.”

“Doubt it.” He grinned widely with twinkling, amused amber. “I’m an archangel, remember? I can take a good pounding.” His brows waggled as his mouth quickly closed at his husband’s reaction.

Instantly turning away, Sam headed further down the corridor to the kitchen, not quite fleeing.

“Hey!” Gabe yelled, jogging after him. “Come on. I’m only teasing!” He frowned minutely when his husband used his long-legged advantage but kept chasing after him. “Sam-heart! Come on!” He caught the door to the kitchen ahead and changed tactics. _“You know I love you and your pregnancy kink,”_ he sent through their bond. A moment later, he bit his lip to keep from chuckling when he saw the raised middle finger in his direction in response before Sam ducked within. “You love me, and you know it!” he shouted after, quickly following inside.

Deep oceanic blues were locked onto Gabriel when he entered the kitchen. His brother’s head was tilted to the side as he sat at the table in the far-left corner seat next to Alec, who was chatting furiously across the table at Declan. Dean was closest to Gabe, helping Maddie hop up onto the stool next to her brother in their usual spots. The retired hunter did manage to turn towards him briefly before he jerked his head towards the island where Sam was making himself a plate of food, turned away.

Gabe walked up beside his husband a moment later, gently placing a hand to Sam’s lower back.

“We’re good, right?” he asked. So many times before, his big mouth had gotten him in trouble.

Rolling his eyes, Sam set his plate down and leaned closer. “What happened to my Sexual Deviant Smurf? I like that one the best,” he murmured into Gabe’s ear prior to a brief kiss to the cheek. “We’re great. Honest, Gabe. Now, stop thinking so much. Please.” His husband grabbed his plate full of health crap again. “I’m the brainy one in this relationship, remember?” He flashed a wide smile. “Speaking of which, make sure you grab some veggies this time, will you? They won’t kill you.”

* * *

He finished hiking up the red pants with a forlorn sigh. This was karma biting him squarely on the ass hands down for everything he had ever done his entire life. He was getting his just desserts finally. He avoided his reflection in the mirror for the most part. He didn’t feel right looking like the leader of the Smurfs. He wasn’t worthy of that in his mind. He glanced at his red cap, snatching it from the edge and slipping it on while sweeping his hair underneath. Only then did he glance at the mirror.

Groaning, he leaned forward on the edge of the sink and hung his head.

“Are you ready— _whoa_!”

Soulful whiskey eyes flicked up to the mirror to meet his husband’s eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want,” he bitterly grumbled. He knew he looked ridiculous.

Frowning slightly, Sam shook his head. “No it’s not that. I just forgot about the tails.” He stepped up behind him a second later, their eyes locked completely in the mirror as if something tragic would happen if broken.

Gabe’s thick white brow raised as he sucked down some air at the first touch. “Sam-shine?”

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha doin’?” He did his best to ignore the maddening touch to the round Smurf tail, but it was getting harder— “Oh, _Smurf_!” The words tore from him a moment later as he gasped and groaned, putting his full weight on the sink then. Yep. It was official. Smurf tails were definitely one of the major zones. He shook his head sharply to keep from giving in to the deliciousness that was sending so many jolts of pleasure throughout his body currently. “Sam,” he sputtered, barely resisting the urge to lean back into that touch. The hand paused for a moment. “I really wouldn’t if you want us to take this photo with it being semi—um . . . _oh_ . . .”

“So, that’s wings and tail,” Sam remarked above him, withdrawing his hand from his tail finally. “Interesting.”

“Glad we figured out more things to add to the list, but—” His head then pressed back into his husband’s shoulder when he caught the unadulterated, hungry look. “Um, Sam-cubus?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re still you, right?” He caught the soft snort and smile.

“Yeah. It’s still me.”

Judging by what he saw in Sam’s face, he believed it. But whoa . . . where had this strange kinky side come from? The other kinks Gabe understood, but this? And if just a little round Smurf tail—yeah, no, he wasn’t going down that road. Not at all. That was too much for even him.

When Sam stepped back and slowly turned him so they were facing, he kept watching, wondering what the Smurf was going on here exactly. The hazel eyes gradually roamed down him from head to toe with his husband pausing for a brief moment to lick his lips.

“You didn’t get hit by another witch’s curse, right? I mean, I shouldn’t be preparing myself here to be shoved up against the wall or anything?” he asked.

“What?”

“You look like you’re two seconds from devouring me whole.”

His husband snorted, shaking his head. “It’s not the Smurfs, okay. I’m seeing past that.”

“Okay . . . ?”

“Those pants just, well, look good on you.”

“They’re red, form-fitting—oh.” He blinked when he glanced down. “Oh. So . . . I, um, maybe we shouldn’t. This is Jody after all.” There was no hiding that unfortunately. At least not comfortably.

“Oh no you don’t.”

“Sam,” he whined. “She and Donna already—”

“Give you a taste of your own medicine?”

“Yes. Exactly.” He then huffed, folding his arms across his chest and instantly noticing the bob of Sam’s Adam’s apple at that so he let his arms fall to his sides instead. “It’s one thing when I make those jokes. It’s another when they do.”

“That’s . . . _what_?” His husband scoffed.

“I’m trying to get on their good side.”

“That is being on their good side when they tease you like that.”

“But we’re not family.”

“Yeah, I think they’d disagree with you on that,” Sam quipped. “Trust me. Jody already calls herself Grandma with the kids.”

“But that’s because she considers you and Dean—”

“Hate to break it to you, but you and I are married—so, yes, she’s a bit like your mother-in-law, but that’s still family. All right?”

“Well, I’m fairly certain this isn’t appropriate for a Christmas card to your—” He snapped his fingers when Sam’s eyes glanced down again, clearly losing him. “Hey, moose. My eyes are up here.”

“Sorry. Yeah. You’re right.” His husband cleared his throat again, standing a bit taller than before. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Are you certain a witch didn’t curse you again?”

“Positive,” his husband sighed with a hard eye roll.

“Then what the Smurf? Seriously? It’s hard—”

“So I see,” drawled the brat, desperately trying not to laugh.

For half a second, Gabe considered snapping a cold bucket of ice water and having it dump over his husband. He decided against it, realizing it’d only make it longer for his Grace to replenish then. So, instead, he decided to do what he was best at, distract.

“Where are the kids?”

He caught Sam’s sudden blink and waited.

“Um, with Dean and Cas.” He frowned slightly before he shrugged languidly. “I got them ready while you were changing.”

“Cool. Is Maddie in the cute little green dress then with the silver bow on it?”

“No. She wanted to wear the Angel Christmas sweater she got from Auntie Rowena instead. Declan’s wearing the Demon version of course, swearing he’s never taking it off.”

“All right then.” Gabe wasn’t sure how to process that exactly. Auntie Rowena? That was . . . something. “And you’re going to wear that?” He left off the words ‘dirty Henley.’

“No. My sweater is out there in the library. I didn’t want the kids to get it dirty. I’ve grabbed yours too.”

“What?”

“Well, I thought if the kids were wearing theirs, that we should maybe wear ours too. Make it a full Christmas experience for them again.”

“I’m a Smurf.”

“And what a sexy Smurf you are too,” Sam replied with a grin. “Honestly, though, I don’t want you to feel left out because of the whole Smurf thing. Hell, if you want, I’ll go shirtless with you. We can make it be the craziest Christmas card ever.”

Gabe chuckled, shaking his head. “I think with me like this has already done that.”

“Yeah.” Sam pulled the cap off with a sigh. “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely not.”

His husband scoffed, shaking his head. “Wow. Thanks for that.”

He laughed quietly. “What are you thinking?”

“Santa hat with garland boa.”

“What?”

Sam’s face then lit up. “NO! No! I got it!” He chuckled loudly. “Oh, that’s perfect!”

Gabe’s head tilted. “Okay . . . not following.”

His husband leaned down, though, kissing him lightly. “Give me, like, two minutes.”

“Sam?”

“It’s going to be awesome,” his husband grinned from ear to ear, practically vibrating with unabashed glee. “Promise. Go on. I’ll meet you in the library in two minutes.”

Sighing, Gabe nodded. “All right.” He headed off towards the library a few moments later, frowning when Sam ran in the opposite direction.

“Daddy!” the kids yelled the second he entered the room. Both wrapped their arms tightly around him with their dad’s smile directed up at him on full blast.

“Hey, kiddos.” He ruffled their hair affectionately, hearing the clucking of disapproval from the table. His head swiveled at the person, sighing heavily when he saw the familiar redhead smirking gleefully at him. “Rowena.”

“Hello, Gabriel.” Her eyes passed over him briefly as her smile deepened. “So, what exactly are you supposed to be?”

He forced a smile to his face, feeling his kids’ eyes on him. “Papa Smurf.”

“Ah.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be running things downstairs?”

“And miss the opportunity to see my godbabies in their Auntie Rowena’s Christmas sweaters?” she gasped, pressing a hand to her chest dramatically. “I would never miss this.”

“For the last time, Red,” he huffed, “you are not their godmother.”

“Says you,” she replied, looking bored at her nails for a moment. “And yet, they’re wearing my sweaters I gave them.”

He glanced upwards and shook his head. This honestly could not get any worse.

Wing beats a second later, however, signaled it always could and would.

“I knew you and Sam were into quite a bit of—”

Gabriel did his best to ignore the harsh coughing near the tree from his brother-in-law, who could have done the nice thing and warned him.

“Balthazar!” he said dryly, whirling around to glance at the brat. When he caught the other standing next to Balthy’s side, he groaned inwardly. He honestly was okay dying right then. Seriously.

“You’re still blue,” slowly said Michael with an utterly puzzled look.

“Yes. I am. Thank you for pointing that out,” he remarked with a thin smile.

“Oh my,” Rowena murmured behind him.

He jumped a second later at fingers lightly brushing against the Smurf tail.

 _“Oh, dear husband of mine, get your ass back here now before I murder them all,_ ” he sent through their bond.

_“Just say ‘stethoscope’ to Dean. He’ll stop.”_

_“If only it were your brother.”_ He felt the instant flood of confusion surge, though, but waited.

_“I’m on my way.”_

_“Bring your gun with witch-killing bullets and angel blade.”_ He was only half-joking there.

When Sam rushed in a few second later, the angels and Queen of Hell made a little disappointed noise but refused to leave.

“Uh, hi.” Sam glanced at their guests before he headed towards Gabe, quickly reaching his side. “What’s everyone doing here?”

“As I was telling your charming, feathery, blue husband,” Rowena drawled sweetly “I merely wanted to see my godbabies in their Christmas sweaters I gave them. I see you’re not wearing yours, though, Samuel.”

“I haven’t changed into it yet.”

“Oh!” Her smile widened as she looked positively radiant. “How wonderful.” Her gaze then darted towards Michael, appraising him for a moment, before she turned her attention on Maddie. “Come to Auntie Rowena, sweetie.”

Before Sam and Gabe could even say anything, Maddie was already bounding over to her. They both groaned inwardly, deciding they’d sit the kids down later and go over stranger danger.

“Well, aren’t you going to break some hearts when you grow up, little princess?” Rowena murmured, gently straightening Maddie’s light brown hair in a loving manner. She returned Maddie’s wide, beaming smile. “Let me offer you some advice I’ve learned over the years.”

“Red,” Gabe warned, stepping towards her and stopping when Sam gently grabbed his arm.

“Keep your chin up always. Dust off your gown whenever its dirty. And rule with kindness but make sure you’re firm as well. And punish those who disobey. Understand?”

Maddie giggled, nodding enthusiastically.

“That’s my beautiful goddaughter.”

Maddie then wrapped her arms around Rowena, much to her fathers’ shared horror.

The Queen of Hell returned the hug just as fiercely before she pressed a gentle kiss to Maddie’s forehead and smoothed her cheeks softly.

“Do you know what you need?”

“What?” Maddie asked, her mint green eyes wide.

“Well, every princess needs jewelry of course. Don’t you worry, though. Auntie Rowena is here.” She glanced at her wrists and fingers for a moment before she shook her head. “Ah. Yes. I know exactly what you need.” She snapped her fingers, a shiny silver necklace appearing in her palm a moment later.

Gabe caught Sam’s look and joined him in frowning. Out of the corner of his eye, he also noticed Michael’s rigid stance at the necklace.

“What is it?”

“Well, this is dear Papa Gabriel’s symbol in Enochian that was given to him by his father,” Rowena explained, pointing at the symbol on the left. “And this one here—” she said, pointing at the one on the right. “This is Daddy Samuel’s symbol in Hell for The Boy King of Hell.”

Sam instantly tensed at the moniker.

“You and your brother unite Heaven and Hell, my loves, by just your being.”

“But Cousin Jack is . . .”

Rowena laughed softly, glancing at Declan as he approached cautiously.

“Is the son of Lucifer, yes, but he didn’t unite Heaven and Hell. His mother was human. And Alec, while adorable as well of course, is still only the child of the angel who fell for Humanity and the Righteous Man—so Heaven and Paradise again. You both, however,” she remarked with a wide, proud grin, “are the children of the Archangel Gabriel and The Boy King Samuel Winchester. Your fathers were destined to rule Heaven and Hell, choosing another destiny for themselves instead.”

“Whoa,” Declan murmured, his little head whipping back towards his dads before he returned his attention back to the Queen of Hell.

“Agreed,” Rowena replied with quiet laughter. She gently looped the silver necklace around Maddie’s neck before she clasped it. The necklace instantly shimmered for a moment and then shrank down so it wouldn’t be too loose on Maddie’s little neck.

“Rowena, she’s three.”

“Yes, Samuel. I’m aware of that.” She then waved her hand flippantly. “Which is why there is a enchantment on it to ensure no harm comes to them because of it.” Her eyes quickly flitted over to the glaring fathers. “I was a mother once you recall?” She then snapped in another version of Maddie’s necklace in gold this time. She quickly placed it around Declan’s neck, smiling when the necklace shimmered and shrank down just as Maddie’s had. “There we go.”

A snap behind Gabe caused him to glance at his brothers, noticing Michael’s wide eyes with his fingers still pressed together post-snap.

“What?” Rowena purred. “You thought I wouldn’t ward it against Angelic Grace? Oh, sweetie.”

“They are not yours, witch,” growled Michael.

“Precisely,” she replied, entirely pleased with herself. “And they’re not yours either, Michael. They are Gabriel and Samuel’s children.”

Clenching his jaw furiously, Michael glanced at Balthazar before he turned back to her.

“They will not be influenced by either Heaven or Hell.”

Maddie then gasped, turning around to glance at her dads with her mouth open.

“Mads?”

With heavy hearts, Sam and Gabe both walked towards their daughter.

“I can’t hear it no more.” She whirled back to Rowena. “It’s quiet.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure it is, little one,” smiled the former witch, lovingly brushing back Maddie’s hair. She then glanced at the fathers when they finally joined them. “I’ve severed their connection to Heaven and Hell temporarily. They should, after all, be allowed to be children first.”

“They could hear Angel Radio?”

“Indeed. And my demons as well regrettably.” Rowena’s eyes then fell on the other archangel who was deathly silent. “Isn’t that right, Michael?”

Gabriel spun around, finding the guilt all over his big brother’s face.

“You knew?”

Michael lifted his chin up haughtily but said nothing.

“Brother?” Balthazar quietly said beside their eldest brother.

Reluctantly, the eldest archangel turned with a sigh. “Yes. All right. I knew. Jack confirmed it to me quite some time ago when you stated she was having trouble sleeping every now and then. I didn’t feel it was worth mentioning, however, as she is part angel and it is part of her—”

A strong right hook knocked Michael flat on his ass a moment later.

“They are your nephew and niece, you fool!” Balthazar snarled, quickly standing over Michael threateningly with his eyes aglow with Grace. “I’m certain I speak for all when I say you are not welcome here. Leave.” His voice then dropped into a feral growl, “Or I’ll gladly remove you myself.”

Michael wiped the blood from his mouth, his eyes darting towards Gabe before he vanished.

“Thank you,” stated Sam, slipping his hand into Gabe’s and squeezing it to get his attention.

“Of course.” Balthazar’s head bowed slightly. “I take my uncle duties very seriously as you can see.” His steely grays darted to Gabe briefly as he smirked like the little brat he was.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, Dec?” Gabe murmured, kneeling to his son’s level.

“Uncle Mikey was being a dick again, wasn’t he?”

A few light laughs echoed around the room. “The biggest one there is. Good thing your Auntie Rowena was here to save the day.”

“And dear Uncle Balthy as well,” she replied, her eyes darting to the blond angel.

Gabe frowned, glancing between the two. He did not like the looks there at all.

“So, we gonna take this pic?” a gruff voice called out from near the tree. “Just wondering since we’re all waiting here.” Deep green then found amber. “Because Jody and the gang are sort of all looking forward to this photo, and it’s so close to the cutoff to get there before Christmas and—”

“All right, Dean. We get it.” Sam glanced at Gabe. “Want yours?”

Originally, he was going to go full Papa Smurf for the photo, but based on Red’s look she was giving him, he knew how that’d go. “Please.” He frowned when Rowena made a muffled noise in reply. He glanced over, catching her gleeful look. Figured. Sam then reluctantly pulled his hand back and headed to the table where their handmade sweaters were. The second he saw Sam pull the Henley off, he quickly turned away, knowing that usually didn’t help when one was in tight pants currently. He glanced back when now fuzzy green antler wearing Sam handed him the sweater. Santa hat firmly atop of his head and Christmas lights looped around his shoulders, Gabriel was finally ready in the red Christmas homemade sweater. He saw the soft, loving look reflected in those maddening hazel.

“Perfect.”

“Yes, I dare say, you both are,” Rowena purred from her chair she lounged in.

Sam’s eyes instantly darted over Gabe’s shoulder, likely to glare at her.

“Come on, kids. Let’s go by the tree.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Are you certain you want me to take this?” the former angel spoke finally, looking entirely too nervous for his own good.

Gabe heard his husband’s soft, kind laugh. “Yeah, man. I’m sure.”

“I could take it if you’d like!” Balthazar piped up, sitting with his boots propped up on the table on the other side of Rowena. Both were now sprawled out, lying in wait for their obvious prey. “I’m rather good at it now being a cam—”

“Balthazar!” Sam hissed, grabbing a candy cane from the tree and tossing it at the cheeky blond. “Suck on that!”

“With pleasure,” drawled back happily the cheeky blond.

Gabe let Sam guide him exactly where he was supposed to be for this photo, sitting down when his husband forced him down onto a short stool set up off to the side of the Christmas tree. He was supposed to sit for this photo? All right then. Though, he noticed he was almost at the kids’ height now.

“Mmm, so good,” exaggeratedly moaned Balthazar, regaining the others’ attention. “Would you like a suck from—” Balthazar then let a yelp when he was smacked hard upside the head.

“Thank you, Dean,” Sam sighed, shaking his head before he lowered himself to sit on Gabe’s lap. “Remember, Cas. You just have to hit the middle button.”

“The circle?”

“Right.”

“Not the square.”

“There isn’t—just hit the white circle at the bottom like we practiced earlier.”

“You know,” called out a voice from the table, “you could have asked your brother—”

“Dean!”

“Just saying.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam leaned towards Gabe, his arm wrapping loosely around Gabe’s shoulder.

“No! We need to see the sweater, Samuel!” Rowena cried.

“Take the picture, Cas. Now.”

With a faint smile and loving gaze, Sam kissed the blue cheek caressing Gabe’s other cheek while Gabe, on the other hand, frowned deeply at the sight of his brother and ex-booty call doing their best impression of eye-fucking right there in front of the kids. However, when he heard Maddie and Declan’s giggles, he glanced towards them, feeling his irritation quickly melt away. Yeah. All right. He’d let there be peace on earth for a little while longer then. For them.

“I love you,” Sam murmured after the shutter closed. “I’m so glad you’re home for good now.”

“Me too.”

“I’ll print it off later and send it to her in the morning.”

Gabe nodded silently, finally smiling when he felt the kids wrap their arms around them. He’d watch his kids grow up without being pulled in two different directions all the time now. He wouldn’t ever miss another first again. Who needed Heaven when he had this?


	12. Merry Smurfmas

Several days later, Jody walked back inside, ignoring the bickering happening off to her left. She knew from experience it’d work itself out. And if not, well, wasn’t the first time she had to step in.

Instead, she stared at the envelope that clearly held a card inside. She laughed quietly at seeing that it was from Sam. She had wondered if she’d get the promised card this year or not with everything.

“Hey!” yelled one of her girls after something fell.

“Girls!” she called out in her mom voice, turning her head slowly and catching both staring back with their bad impressions of innocence. Every single time. “Do I need to come in there?”

Claire huffed first as Alex glared but both shook their heads from beside the tree. “We’re fine.”

Yeah. Sure they were. She let it go, though, turning her attention back to the envelope and grabbing her letter opener. She sliced it neatly before she pulled the simple photo card out.

Laughing, she shook her head as she stared at it for a moment. They were happy. Well, mostly happy that was. And that was all she ever wanted for those boys of hers. Happy and full of energy.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Jodes?” Donna asked, stepping up beside her from the kitchen. She leaned around and then giggled as she saw the photo. “Oh, I see Sam got himself a Christmas Smurf this year.”

Jody snickered with her, nodding. “So it seems.” She flipped the card over, reading the blurb.

  
_Merry Christmas._

_Sorry it was so late this year. Shouldn’t be a problem after this, though. Now, before you start worrying, we’re fine. Really. Short story is Gabe resigned, so he’s going to be here a lot more. Not quite sure how long we’ll last being stay-at-home parents, but we’re due for a good, long break. Just being there for our kids? Making sure they know how loved they are and maybe undo the damage we’ve done by spoiling them as we have. See you at Christmas. Can’t wait to see all of you and share our other news._

_All our love,_

_SW, GW, DW, MW_

“Other news?” Donna repeated, seemingly bewildered. “Whatcha s'pose that’s all ‘bout there?”

“I don’t know.” But for some reason, the sheriff of Sioux Falls wasn’t really all that worried. Not when the family all looked so happy as they were. Well, mostly happy, but she had a feeling that Gabriel was happier than he was letting in on that photo. “Let’s hang this next to the other.”

A few moments later, Jody tacked it to the board above the fireplace with her cards from other hunters she had become friendly with. Her fingers brushed over Bobby’s and then Charlie’s cards for a brief second before she glanced at the spot she had left free. Those Winchester boys were after all _her_ boys. Of course she’d always leave a spot open for them.

In the center right side was a happy, relaxed Dean standing next to a content, almost stoic Cas with a very bored Alec and a smiley Jack in the middle front. All four were in nice Christmas-themed button-down dress shirts. They looked picture perfect, radiating warmth and love. Both Alec and Dean had their light brown hair spiked up as usual while Cas once again had his trademark messy, sex-hair, and Jack had his slicked down somewhat. She couldn’t get past how bored poor Alec looked—or how smitten Dean was with Cas and their sons at his side.

Left of that in the middle was now a Christmas moose sweater-wearing, antlered Sam with fluffy hair kissing his Christmas-fied Papa Smurf!Gabe (complete with Santa hat and string of Christmas lights placed on his shoulders) wearing a look that screamed how done he was with all of this already. In front of them was a bright, cheery Maddie in an angel-themed sweater with raised fingers as if she’d just snapped them. Her mint green eyes with streaks of gold glistened softly as she smiled playfully at the camera. On her left was the liquid sunshine-eyed Declan in a demon-themed sweater, who was sticking his tongue out at the camera and looking completely like the little troublemaker he was.

Due to a trick of lighting, both kids had an almost halo-like effect atop of their heads, and were those . . . _wings_? Maddie’s waves were mostly tamed with a tight ringlet on her right side near her eye, but Declan’s were definitely not, reminding Jody of Sam’s hair after a late night of frantic researching.

Seriously, the amount of chaotic energy coming from that card was amazing and adorable. She expected nothing less honestly from those four, though. She couldn’t wait to see them all in person again. To hug them. Love them all. Huh. The song _was_ right.

There would be peace when they were done after all.


End file.
